


Woes of an Officer in Training

by ElmiDol



Series: Sir General [1]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015), Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Anal Sex, Awkwardness, BDSM, Cum Play, Cunnilingus, Execution, F/M, Foot Jobs, Glove Kink, Inappropriate Workplace Relations, Lots of exercise, Masturbation, Multiple Orgasms, Rimming, Sex Toys, Slight "Pet" Play, Spanking, SubReader, Tags to be added as I post, Under-Desk Blow Jobs, Vaginal Sex, boot licking, domHux, some humiliation, somewhat dubcon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-23
Updated: 2017-05-15
Packaged: 2018-10-22 20:09:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 21
Words: 80,732
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10704213
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ElmiDol/pseuds/ElmiDol
Summary: Your first impression on the General may have left him thinking you were, by far, one of the worst officers in training he had ever met...and, quite possibly, a thief.{Reposting with corrections}





	1. Touching on my Muffin

**Author's Note:**

> For those of you not following my instagram, I am posting this slowly over time though I hope to have the bulk if not all of it up by mid-May. I want to go through and correct as many grammatical/spelling errors as I can catch. There are also a few minor things I want to change, such as the first anal sex scene (in my opinion, there was too little preparation and using spit as lube wouldn't be entirely healthy in this case).
> 
> It has taken me a bit of time as well as a few discussions with people to decide to bring this back here. Still finding my footing again here; trying to keep the fandom fun rather than overwhelming. Thank you all for your support and understanding.

Touching on my Muffin

It had been occurring for the past week. Your morning ritual was tarnished each day when you moved to get your breakfast. At the beginning of the week, you had made yourself a batch of muffins that tasted quite like vanilla cookies. One was to be set out for you along with your coffee, your favorite flavor you might add. When you walked into the cafeteria and asked that you be handed your things: startlement. The worker could not find your muffin or coffee. Each morning you received apologies rather than your food. Knowing you had no time to dwell on this miserable outcome, you accepted the mediocre roll and a bit of plain coffee, which you loaded with some creamer and sugar.

Today was no different, which further disappointed you in the fact that you had to shadow one of the officers in a task that involved moving outdoors. The weather on Starkiller Base was dreadful that day. Snow was descending and temperatures had dropped more than twenty degrees overnight. You sipped the coffee, making a face that was borderline distaste. It was nothing compared with the flavor you had purchased with the meager income you were receiving. You promised yourself that you would find who was stealing what was yours, and give them a piece of your mind.

You finished the roll, took one last swig of your drink then threw away the cup, and at last walked out of the cafeteria. Officer Hido was waiting for you in the hall. He had eaten earlier, his workday beginning an hour before your own so that he could complete any work that you were not cleared to oversee. You were still in training to become a full-fledged officer. Being of much promise due to your high scores in class, your instructors had recommended to a number of your superiors that you be moved into a more visual and hands-on working area. Starkiller Base was not what you had expected to be assigned to, what with its importance.

Hido flipped through some statistics on his holopad as you and he walked side-by-side down the hallway that led to the building’s exit. There was a coat waiting for each of you near the door. Hido pulled his on with a certain grace, while you fumbled for a moment; the cold weather and clothing that prevented it from assaulting you were new. Your gloved hands worked on the buttons after you had zipped up the interior of the coat. You half-wished earmuffs would be provided, however as they would be detrimental to your ability to hear, they were not. Hido tucked his holopad away whilst the pair of you exited the building.

Immediately did the harsh weather assault your face. You shivered, fighting off the urge to wrap your arms around yourself. Hido’s jaw tensed, however he did not move to warm his body. No doubt he was more accustomed to the cold temperatures that the base met than you were. According to what you had learned of the officer you were shadowing, Hido had been stationed on Starkiller for roughly ten months already.

The fact that you could see your breath influenced an urge to arise, one that insisted you duck back into the warmth of the building you had just left. You pushed it aside, stepping cautiously forward to keep pace with Officer Hido. He had his arms crossed behind his back as he walked. It was with purpose that he crossed the row of buildings and headed further, towards the trees. You, your teeth chattering here and there, clumsily went along with him. You did what you could to keep a proper appearance. It would be too easy for you to draw unwanted attention to yourself should you allow the cold to affect your posture.

“You’ll get used to it, (L/n),” Hido said, his eyes sliding towards you momentarily before he looked ahead once more at the line of trees.

“I sure hope so, sir,” you responded, failing for a second to prevent your teeth from chattering noisily. He did not reprimand you for the noise, but instead cast a sympathetic glance in your direction. “You said… Uhm, sir, you said we are out here today to…” Your teeth chattered, prompting you to clench your jaw and pause. “Sorry, sir.”

“Relax, (L/n),” he said as the two of you arrived at the first tree. He leaned his back against it and regarded you for several seconds. Snow was descending around the pair of you, clinging to your uniform hat and eyelashes. You blinked in an attempt to rid yourself of those flakes. You found, however, that you had to brush them aside with your leather gloves, which were absorbing the coolness of the elements. “In part it is for you to be acclimated, while also you are to learn how to recalibrate the scanner for when there is snow. Remember, weather—fog, rain, excessive heat or cold—can have an influence. Now, take out your scanner and tell me what it says.”

You did as he instructed and found that it was oversensitive to his body-heat. This made sense, given your close proximity and the fact that it was set for a different planet than Starkiller. You shifted from leg to leg in attempt to keep warm as Hido led you through the various steps in essentially updating the system on your scanner. It would now automatically adjust itself to the elements outside, allowing you to see an enemy, or even ally, on it. You had taken a number of courses on how various scanners worked. Well-trained soldiers could easily trick certain scanners using outside sources. In class, every student had been given a rudimentary scanner, which could be updated if one was given the proper codes and instructions, as Officer Hido had done with you.

The two of you were outdoors for roughly a half hour longer, and you found that, despite your coat, you were growing numb in certain areas. You were a shivering mess as Hido and you ascended the steps that led into the building in which you were to continue shadowing him. He commented that you should take a break to warm, and the tone of his voice almost had a hint of worry. You wondered if your lips were blue; you could hardly feel them other than when you pressed them tightly together in your attempts to lock your jaw. The heat of the building hit you like a train. Your shivering only increased as your brain registered exactly how cold your body was in comparison with the indoor climate.

Blood pulsed loud in your ears, and you found yourself raising a hand to quickly catch the edge of a wall. Hido lunged your way as your spell of dizziness nearly floored you. His hands caught under your arms, and you felt him pulling you back into a straighter position. You instinctually moved closer to the warmth of his body, pressing against him. Officer Hido cleared his throat. Your knees locked as you realized what you had done.

Teeth clattering, you apologized and drew back from him. This time, you could not help but wrap your arms around yourself. Your face stung as warmth tried to return to it. You were a trembling mess, no doubt appearing inadequate when compared with the other officers on Starkiller. Your fingertips dug into your arms. You stared down at the floor, your mind in a slight fog as the blood in your ears continued to pulse, to pound, to give you the beginnings of a headache.

“Sir!” you heard Officer Hido say. There was a hint of panic in his voice, as though he had been caught doing something he was not supposed to. You did not look up, failed to realize that he was addressing a superior, which meant that you should have been showing your respects as well.

Boots entered your line of vision, blocking your view of the tile. You blinked repeatedly, shivering and pressing your limbs more tightly together. A voice that was rather familiar for reasons you could not place spoke to Hido. A question, regarding the length of time during which he had remained outdoors with you. Roughly fifty-minutes was the response. That strangely familiar voice instructed the officer you were shadowing to take you to med-bay. It was clear, continued the voice, that you were unaccustomed to the weather. There was no need to chance you going into shock.

Once there, you found that you kept demanding more blankets. A third one was placed on you, and you asked for a fourth. Rather than do this, the nurse placed a hand against your forehead. She frowned, grabbed the thermometer, and took your temperature. Initially it had been below normal, your body influenced by the weather outside. Currently, however, it showed the beginnings of a fever. Fifteen minutes later, she took it again and sighed.

“It should die down by the end of the day,” she said to Hido, who nodded. “I’ll have her remain here. She may continue shadowing you tomorrow. It’s best to prevent a cold or other illnesses from forming.”

“Of course,” Officer Hido said. He dipped his head a little when he found you watching him. You mimicked the gesture, knowing it to be one of farewell. You would see him in the morning, and you sincerely hoped it would not be outdoors.

Having been in the infirmary, you found that you were closer to the cafeteria. Thus you arrived earlier than you had in quite a while and discovered that your muffin and coffee were at long last present. After the previous day’s events, you were beyond pleased. You took a bite of that sweet muffin, sipped your coffee, and sighed in pure happiness. When Officer Hido arrived, you were thankful to learn that you would be shadowing him indoors.

Learning that your earlier arrival had led you to being able to enjoy your muffin and coffee, you made it a point the next few days to wake sooner and get to the cafeteria in time to do so. On your third day of doing so, you heard a rumor circulating. It seemed someone was taking General Hux’s breakfast. You wondered who the hell would have the balls to do something like that. Perhaps it was the same culprit that had been taking your muffin and coffee. On the night of the fourth day, you made a new batch of muffins and purchased more of the two coffee blends you always mixed for your morning coffee.

It was the fifth day of you arriving in the cafeteria earlier than you had been before, and you discovered to your dismay that someone had come even sooner. Your muffin and coffee for the day were gone. You sighed, crossed your arms over your chest, and debated whether or not you should just use one of the other muffins. You rationed them out for six days; the pan you used made six giant muffins. The main issue was the cost of ingredients and the cost of coffee. Your meager income, what with you only being an officer-in-training at the time, did not allow you to stretch your budget much. Either you were going to enjoy your muffin on a later day and have a roll today, or you would enjoy your muffin today and have the roll on a different day. You settled for the former, promising yourself that you would get up even earlier the next day. Who needed sleep anyway? If you had your coffee and muffin, you would be set to work.

The following day, you were up before the sun. You showered, dressed, and made your way over to the work building, which was thankfully beside the one that housed your living quarters. You saw very few officers about. Stormtroopers were a more common sight. You entered the cafeteria to find it nearly empty. People would not be getting breakfast until another hour had passed. You, meanwhile, wanted what was yours. You walked up to the cafeteria lady, who recognized you. She was in the process of preparing the bins for food to be served, and so she invited you to enter the kitchen to grab your coffee and muffin. You thanked her, walking to the door to do so.

As you entered the kitchen, the door on the opposite side opened as well. You froze in place as General Hux strode inside. He seemed not to notice you; you doubted he was oblivious to your presence, he most likely was choosing to ignore it. With your heart pounding in your chest, you decided to act as normal as possible. You went over to where you kept your coffee, poured yourself some into a travel cup, and then grabbed a muffin from your container. When you turned to walk out of the kitchen, you found General Hux standing a foot away from you. You froze, the coffee in your cup sloshing against the sides. He peered down at you, his expression severe.

“What is it you think you are doing?” he questioned in an authoritative tone.

You felt like a child being scolded, as though you had been caught stealing cookies. You ducked a little before you could catch yourself. “G-getting my…m-mu-muffin, S-s-Sir.”

He opened his mouth to respond then paused. A curious expression crossed his features. General Hux slid his gaze to the muffin that was in your hand then the coffee and finally your face. “Yours?” He said it so levelly, and yet you could see there was almost a hesitation on his part, disbelief.

It dawned on you immediately why this was. _He_ had been the one taking your coffee and muffin. And _you_ were the one he believed to be stealing his breakfast. What a horrible way to capture the General’s attention, your mind screamed at you. You swallowed thickly, bobbing your head stupidly as you nodded. His voice was the same one you had heard in the entrance that day after coming in from the cold. He no doubt thought poorly of you.

“I… I, uhm, made them… And, uh, the coffee, I…I mix…I…” You thrust the coffee and muffin at him. They nearly hit him in the stomach, however he managed to catch your wrists to prevent this from occurring. Coffee slipped out of the small opening in the mug through which one could drink. You, dread filling you, winced as that small drop hit the General’s boot. You were _dead_.


	2. Drop it like it's Hot

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I thought I had four chapters pre-edited, but I only have three. Ah well. I was put back on add-back hormone therapy by my doctor so my headaches have increased again, as well as nausea...just plain blahness. That being said, I do plan on keeping to my schedule. I'm just not going to push it too much (basically, THIS fic should be up entirely by mid-May, but not going to push too hard to get Actions caught up by that point; though it will follow soon after)

Drop it like it’s Hot

General Hux fully pulled the muffin and coffee from your hands. Your limbs fell lamely to your sides, and you could feel your heart racing in your chest. You felt as though you were going to suffocate. Your face was growing hot with both severe embarrassment and fear. Your superior raked his eyes up and down your frame, assessing you. With a clipped tone, he instructed you to follow him. You gulped the moment he turned around. As he walked, General Hux lifted the coffee to his mouth and took a sip. Your limbs felt unstable, like gelatin, as you clumsily shuffled along behind him.

Stormtroopers and the few officers that were up spared you more than a fleeting glance. They paid their respects to General Hux, who on occasion would nod in return or speak a brief word. All the while he walked, and you realized that he was leading you to the door. Your heart sunk in your chest; were you about to be sent away? Another officer scrambled to retrieve the general’s greatcoat upon realizing the redhead’s intended destination. That, along with his hat, was ready when General Hux and you reached the door. The officer briefly held the coffee and muffin as General Hux pulled on his coat. You were offered no such comfort or warmth, which caused the acid in your stomach to churn uncomfortably.

Once more in possession of the coffee and muffin, General Hux exited the building. You, naturally, went along with him. Your pace was somber in comparison to his sure strides. You were two to three steps behind him every time, much different from the way you always walked side-by-side with Officer Hido. If anything, the cold had only increased since the day you had found yourself shadowing the aforementioned man in the outdoors. Without a coat, you found your jaw immediately trembling. You locked it as best you could, having no desire to further displease your superior with the sounds of your teeth chattering.

The drop of coffee that had landed on his boot was no longer visible with the snow that had begun to cling. You were shivering as you followed him towards the line of trees, a little further beyond that until the pair of you were on slightly more level ground. General Hux occasionally took a drink of coffee or a bite of muffin as the two of you walked. The muffin was gone, only the cup of coffee remaining in his hand. He stood with one hand behind his back, lifting the drink to his lips and considering you with a cold gaze. It was perhaps more frigid than even the weather you were being forced to endure.

“Drop.” The command was spoken in such a tone that you could not keep from visibly flinching. You obeyed without question, knowing full well what was being ordered of you. You fell into position to do push-ups. “Count.” Just as harsh.

“O-one,” you managed to say, the cold stinging your throat as you spoke and completed the first push-up. “T…tt….tw…o…oo…” You were unaccustomed to functioning in such harsh conditions, much less when you were scared shitless.

The sole of a boot met your back, pressing down on your spine so that you straightened into the correct position. You had not realized that you had tensed so far as to fail to meet regulations. You squeezed your eyes shut, dipping your body down then pressing back up as you counted aloud. Your leather-clad hands were absorbing the cold of the snow underneath them. Your fingers were growing colder with each passing second, and you did not doubt they would be numb by the time you were finished.

“Tw-twe..nn….t-t-ty,” you said through clattering teeth. No doubt he was disappointed in you. You felt hot tears of shame forming in the corners of your eyes. A cold breeze blew by, and they stung your face. You blinked your eyes to rid yourself of the moisture. Kept counting, the boot pressing down again as you tensed from the cold. You were at thirty-five. Your limbs were aching from all your trembling, shivering, attempting to support your weight along with the added pressure of General Hux pressing down on you.

The foot left your back. A second later the toe of the boot was nestled against your stomach, pushing you none-the-bit-gently until you rolled onto your back. General Hux was standing above you, his feet on either side of your stomach; the boot he had used to shove you onto your back having moved along with you. He stared down coldly at you. You swallowed hard, feeling the moisture of the snow seeping into your uniform. In that same authoritative tone, he commanded you to do sit-ups. 

Not even taking into consideration his position over you and that you should have adjusted yourself so that your knees were lined with his feet—you discovered after a moment that this was what he had intended—you bent your legs and started to complete the first sit-up. The heel of his hand met your forehead, keeping you exactly five inches away from his body. Your face flushed as you realized that you had nearly head-butted him in the crotch. He shoved you backwards. You quickly pushed so that you slid a little, your feet in the proper place.

“Count,” he ordered again. You felt your skin tingling from the frosty air hitting your wet clothing as you did the first sit-up. Your body was protesting every move. It was freezing cold, and yet you were feeling more and more numb. You reached thirteen. On your fourteenth sit-up, you found that you could only make it halfway. It was pathetic. You were so much better than this. How could you be failing so horribly in front of the general of all people?

General Hux commanded you to stand. You braced your hands against the ground, trying to hoist yourself up. You collapsed backwards, your right elbow taking the brunt of the blow. You scrambled up, no longer caring what you looked like; you were already a fool in the man’s eyes, you knew this. Rolling onto your side, you pressed up, slid your legs underneath you and at last managed to get to your feet. You stood, a bit wobbly, in front of the redhead. Your superior instructed you to keep moving your legs. You marched in place a little, your arms wrapped around yourself.

“How long have you been on Starkiller?”

“A-a-abbb…bo…o..out-t-t th-th-thr-rrrr-e-ee w-w-w-e-e-e-e-kkkssss, s-s-s-s-ii-ih-s-sir-r-r-rr,” you stuttered out, your teeth almost biting into your tongue as they chattered. Your breath was coming out in visible puffs.

“I see,” he said. General Hux turned on his heel, heading back towards the building. Upon his command, you began to follow him again. Your legs were mostly numb, and thus your pace was slow. Realizing that you were quite a bit away from him, your superior paused long enough for you to catch up. It took more than a few minutes for the pair of you to reenter the building. At the entrance, General Hux handed the empty cup to one of the officers, who moved to dispose of it without question. Your superior removed his cap, however kept on his greatcoat.

The heat was making your flesh sting. You held back a whimper, your throat aching at the strain this caused. You were led towards med-bay once more. Rather than leave you, however, General Hux waved aside the nurse who started to approach. He walked you into one of the private rooms, closed the door, and gestured that you should proceed to the center of the room. “Remove your clothing.” Your eyes widened. Still shivering, you started to stutter out a response to protest. General Hux stepped closer to you. “Your uniform is soaking wet; are you oblivious to the risks of hypothermia? You have not yet acclimated your body to these elements. Strip. Now.”

Your trembling fingers worked at the buttons on your shirt. You managed to get a few, before the General let out an exasperated huff and told you to begin with your gloves. You pinched the leather in one hand and tried to tug off the glove. It seemed to cling to your skin. Having little to no strength in your body, you found that even on the second and third attempts you were unsuccessful. You slipped your middle finger into your mouth, biting down on the leather that was on the tip. You clenched your jaw and tugged your hand downwards. Your flesh was slowly freed from the glove, which seemed to have tightened its hold compared to usual.

General Hux stepped closer to you. You tensed when he grabbed hold of the glove that was dangling from your mouth. He tugged lightly and you released it. He seized your other hand. The warmth of his hands, though he was wearing gloves as well, radiated. He hooked his fingers under the edge of the leather, tugged upwards, and easily took off your second glove. Your fingers were tingling as they started to become more aware of heat. You clumsily tried once more to undo the buttons on your uniform shirt. By the time you managed to undo the first button, General Hux had worked from the bottom up and had only one button left. He slapped aside your hands, which felt as though they were pulsing as warmth began to enter your body. The man easily removed your shirt then pushed you towards the wall.

You were still shivering, a fact you noticed as he leaned you up against the wall so that he could lift your right leg and remove your boot. Your hands flew to the wall as vertigo threatened you. You slid a little, relaxing only when your foot, devoid of both boot and sock, was returned to the ground. General Hux did likewise to your left foot. You were flexing and unflexing your fingers upon his instructions while he undid your belt. That dropped to the floor.

“Remove your pants,” he said smoothly, walking away from you. You clumsily did so, finding that every bit of your exposed flesh was tinged pink. General Hux came closer to you once more, wrapping a blanket around you. You held onto the material, your fingers aching as you forced them into fists around the blanket. “Your training should have consisted of outdoor exercises. Who has been in charge of your scheduling?”

“O-o-o-off-f-f-f-ffi-c-c-c-cer Co-co-con-r-r-ra-d-d-d-d,” you stuttered out, finding that your teeth were chattering more and more. The man had been the one to assign you to Officer Hido. Your training had not included much outdoor activity at all, and you hadn’t bothered to protest due to your aversion to the cold. General Hux adjusted the blanket so that it was underneath your armpits. You glanced towards your red-tinged shoulders then looked straight at your superior as he managed to tug off your undershirt without compromising your dignity, the blanket covering your chest. Your undershirt hit the floor with a wet noise that had you realizing exactly how much snow it had absorbed.

General Hux seized a portion of the blanket that was on you and rubbed it firmly against your skin. You winced at the contact. At the same time, you pressed closer into the warmth. Your superior pulled back from you long enough to remove his coat. You felt sick to your stomach when he slipped your arms into each of the sleeves. He then gripped the blanket again, trailing it along you as he rubbed warmth into your body.

The nurse that had previously been dismissed by the general entered the room. She came nearer when General Hux summoned her closer. Her hands replaced his in working to restore your body to an appropriate temperature. Your superior walked to the door, demanding that someone instruct Officer Conrad to report to med-bay. Your body was still a light pink when the man arrived. His eyes darted from the general to you then back. He seemed to immediately be aware of his failure.

“S-sir,” he said, stiffening. You could see sweat gathering on his brow.

General Hux gestured towards you with his hand. “Should my officers be in this state from minimal outdoor contact, Officer?”

“N-no, sir,” Conrad said, visibly wincing.

“How much time has been devoted to her being acclimated to the elements of Starkiller?”

“Uh-uhm…S-sir, I-I-I—“

“If you assume that an excuse is in order, I can assure you that you would be mistaken to say another word.” That promptly silenced the officer. You felt bad for him a little. At the same time, you felt as though, if he had done his job correctly, you would not be in your current position. At least, not as chilled to the bone as you were; you being outdoors had nothing to do with Officer Conrad, you reminded yourself. “Consider yourself relieved of your duties. I will assign them to a more competent individual. You’re dismissed.”

Conrad left, and you could tell he was on the brink of wishing he would die. His shame was perhaps worse than the amount you had experienced for spilling coffee on the general’s boot. You watched him leave then looked at General Hux’s feet. They turned towards you. You pressed tighter against the wall in retreat. The nurse was still warming your body with the blanket. She asked if you could feel your hands on more than one occasion, and you stared blankly at the floor.

The nurse asked you your name twice before you muttered it out. “Okay, (L/n)?” You blinked then raised your eyes to her. “Are you still feeling cold?”

“Y-yeah,” you said, your throat feeling thick.

“Okay, I’m going to have you get into a warm bath. Follow me.” You were obedient, managing to slide your feet forward as she led you to the next room over. She assisted you in removing the general’s greatcoat, which she then hung so that it would not be ruined in any fashion. As she drew the bath, you managed to remove your bra and panties. You then slipped into the warm water, which stung in many ways. “I’ll be right back. I’m going to speak with General Hux.”

She took the greatcoat with her, leaving you alone in the tub. The water was steaming, and yet you felt only pain as your body was warmed. You slid further into the tub, allowing it to rise to your chest. You were rubbing your hands along your arms then legs. Slowly but surely your teeth no longer chattered. The nurse returned with a thermometer in tow. It reminded you much of the incident with Hido, and you were soon in warm clothing and under blankets.

This time you did wind up with a fever that persisted through the better portion of three days. You slept often, coughing when you were awake. On the fourth day you were allowed to return to your quarters, where you were ordered to remain on bed rest for another two days to ensure all illness left your body. Food was brought to you by some of the officers, twice by a random stormtrooper. The nurse visited you at least once a day to see how you were doing. Only when your fever was gone for over twenty-four hours did she state that you would be cleared for work.

You took up your datapad that evening and scrolled through the new schedule that had been sent to you. A frown crossed your features upon realizing that your day would be beginning a good two hours sooner than it had previously. During those two hours you would be doing exercises, the majority of which appeared to be taking place outdoors. The following morning, you groggily woke up to your alarm, showered and dressed in layers, and headed for the cafeteria. Having not made a new batch of muffins, you grabbed a roll and some of the mediocre coffee that was supplied. You finished your meager breakfast then headed for the exit; you had been informed that you would meet with your trainer outside.

Pulling on your coat and cap, you stepped outside. It was as cold as you remembered it. You allowed yourself to release a whimper since you were alone then proceeded to descend the stairs. Footprints marked various portions of the snow. They crossed to the different living quarters and other buildings. A single set lead towards the trees. You hesitated before deciding to follow them. When you arrived at the more level ground, your heart sank into your stomach.

“S-sir,” you said, standing at attention. Those cool blue eyes swept over you, just as icy as they were in your memory.

“(L/n),” he said smoothly. In some ways, you told yourself, you should have expected it. Who else arose this early in the day? You rather wished he would have assigned someone else to complete the task; being under the general’s scrutiny had never been a part of your career plan. “Drop.”

_Damn. I was hoping for something different._

All the same, you fell into the proper position to complete the push-ups. He demanded that you count once more, and you began to follow through. By the third push-up, you were starting to tremble again. The breeze was lighter than the previous occasions during which you had found yourself outdoors and there was no snow presently descending, however the cool flakes that had already nestled on the ground were nipping at your fingertips. They must have made you tense, for you felt that boot on the small of your back again.

“I don’t want your _ass_ in the air, (L/n),” General Hux said in almost a hiss. You blushed, thankful that your face was pointed towards the ground and out of his view. He had been correct, though; your rear had been higher than it was supposed to be as you attempted to avoid the cold snow below.

“F-fi..iv..ive….” you managed to say, wishing for all the world that he would remove his foot. The pressure was tempting you to lower your body closer to the snow, though you supposed this was the effect he desired. More of a challenge. You dared not complain, hoping that your silence in the matter would evoke a modicum of respect from the man. “Six.” This came out almost breathless.

“Are you cold?” he asked, his tone uncaring. It reminded you of when you had gone through basic training, the way your superiors would mock the recruits in an attempt to weed out the weak.

“N-no, sir!”

“Don’t lie to me, (L/n),” General Hux said, adding more weight to the boot that was planted firmly against your back. Your crotch met with the icy ground. You hissed and winced, feeling the front of your uniform dampen despite the coat you were wearing. “Are you cold?” he asked once more.

You took a moment to readjust yourself then managed to push back into position. “Y..yes, sir.”

“Know your limits,” was all he said before falling silent. You responded with a similar answer to the previous, understanding that he was informing you that it would be your responsibility to speak up when the cold was beginning to have a strong ill effect. You resumed your push-ups, counting all the while. You reached twenty-seven when the foot left your back, and the top of it pressed against your belly before shoving you onto your back. You stared up at the general as he once more stood with his feet on either side of your body. “Continue.”

Having learned your lesson from the previous time, you immediately drew back until your feet and his were aligned. You caught the corners of his mouth twitching as you did so, as though the memory amused him. Not allowing this to distract you, you began with the first sit-up. Again were you counting aloud. You found that the movement coupled with the fact that you were wearing a jacket was helping to keep you from being too cold. When you reached twenty-five, however, General Hux held up a hand for you to stop. He summoned you to your feet with two quick flicks of his fingers. This time you were a little more graceful, however found that your teeth were beginning to chatter in a similar manner to the previous time.

General Hux began walking away from the trees with his arms crossed behind his back. You cautiously followed after him, cupping your hands and breathing against them when you believed that you were not being watched. The two of you left your coats and caps with the workers by the door; these were promptly put away by said individuals while you and the general headed down a hallway. You entered one of the elevators behind him. Stepping so that you were at his side, you observed the man lean forward long enough to press one of the buttons. He then straightened, standing perfectly still as the doors slid closed.

In the reflection of the metal doors, you found that your cheeks had attained a rather reddish hue. Without thinking, you lifted a hand to touch the flesh. It throbbed a little, however you doubted the iciness would stick with you as it had the other times.

“Know your limits,” General Hux said beside you, causing you to jump. You dropped your hand to your side and lowered your gaze. He had brought you indoors upon watching your face flush not only from exertion but from the cold. You, meanwhile, had been unaware that you had possibly passed your limits. That was how someone fell victim to hypothermia, you reminded yourself.

“Yes, sir,” you said somberly. In the reflection on the doors, you could see him look your way. His eyes raked down your frame then made a return journey upwards, his gaze lingering on your flushed cheeks. He stared ahead of himself when the elevator opened on the new floor. You followed him again, soon entering an empty room. He gestured towards the center of the room, the ground, and told you to _drop_.

You felt the air from your lungs hitch in your throat. Not wanting to be reprimanded for insubordination, you stepped over to the designated location and once more assumed the correct position. You got through fifteen push-ups without a boot meeting your back. General Hux instructed you to stand, and that was when you realized he had been seeing whether or not the snow had indeed been the reason behind your incorrect form.

The redhead moved behind one of the desks that was in the room. You heard a drawer open then close. In his hand, the man held a pad of paper and a pen. He set them atop the desk and summoned you forward.

“The coffee blend,” he said, gesturing towards the paper. You nodded, picking up the pen and writing down the two coffee flavors that you mixed for your preferential drink. “And the recipe for the muffins.”

“I… I can’t, sir,” you said before so much as thinking of whom you were speaking to. As realization dawned on you, you tensed and looked his way. His expression was anything but pleased. “I… It’s a family recipe, sir.”

“Write it down,” he said, and you could tell it was with effort that he did not clench his jaw. As an officer—even though you were in training—of the First Order, it was your duty to perform tasks for the general without question. A recipe, be it a secret family recipe or no, was no exception. The tip of your pen hesitated near the sheet of paper. “Is there a problem, (L/n)?”

“It’s just…my…my mother would be disappointed in me, sir,” you said, not lying.

“I see. Then perhaps you should speak with her. Face-to-face, shall we say? An extended visit would do you some good.” You knew he was implying that you would be discharged from the First Order, something that would not please your mother either. You set the pen to the page and began to scrawl down the recipe. You were partway into it when you again paused. “Shall I ready a ship now?”

“Sir?”

“What?” He sounded short on patience.

“Couldn’t…couldn’t I just cook some for you?”

“I see. So I shall have to take you everywhere with me should I want one of those muffins?” You shook your head immediately yet failed to resume your writing. “I expected better of one who was recommended so highly.” General Hux pressed two fingers against the sheet, sliding it away from you before also plucking the pen out of your hand. “Ready your belongings for departure.”

“Sir, it’s… It’s just a muffin,” you protested weakly, feeling sick to your stomach.

He regarded you for a moment before glancing towards the page on which you had been writing. “Precisely.” It struck you the meaning behind those words. How could he entrust you with any sort of task when you would not divulge information about something as stupid as a muffin recipe? He was your superior, responsible for overseeing Starkiller base and many other facets of the First Order.

You found that you could not raise your head completely, your eyes on the page. Knowing it would have little to no impact on his decision, you shifted into a position where you could lift the pen and finish the recipe. You felt stupid and foolish for not having done so in the first place. When you swallowed, your throat felt as though there were a lump pressing against it. Your stomach was churning and your head felt empty, light. The moment you set down the pen, General Hux ordered you to give him forty push-ups.

A flutter in your heart at the possibility that this would be your punishment rather than you being discharged, you moved to the center of the room and dropped to the floor. Just like with the other times, you counted out loud. It took you longer to get through this set, your body growing tired already from the previous sets and the shock that the cold had sent through your body. You rose when you were finished, a sweat having broken out across your body much to your dismay. There would be no time to shower before you were expected to shadow one of the officers.

General Hux closed the distance between the two of you. He leaned down, his face in front of yours. “I expect you to rethink your priorities if you are to remain here. Do I make myself clear?”

You should have answered him verbally. Should not have been focused on the heat of his breath against your lips. Should not have unconsciously pressed closer to him and closed your mouth around his. When the brief kiss ended, your heart stuttered. Your chest felt empty and cold as realization dawned upon you. General Hux had not reacted in the least. Then his jaw twitched, clenching.

“Sixty. Now.” You quickly dropped in front of him, your blush-stained face and watery eyes pointed towards the ground. His boot met the small of your back and he pressed. The added pressure made completing the push-ups with your already sore body that much more daunting of a task.


	3. Scared the Piss Out of Me

Scared the Piss Out of Me

You were aching by the time you were released to shadow the officer, a female by the name of Idlens. She seldom spoke to you save for the occasions during which she thought it best to explain a certain feature or task that you should better understand. Officer Idlens remained with you throughout the day, including during lunch and the small break the pair of you received when her workstation was being repaired; the computer had malfunctioned due to a glitch that was easily remedied. By the time the day was done, you were all too happy to return to your quarters and climb under the covers of your bed.

In the morning, you regretted discovering that it was once again the general who was in charge of your outdoor exercise. You failed to meet his gaze, keeping your eyes trained on his boots as you made your way over to him. The redhead held out his hand and commanded you to hand over all your electronics including your scanner. He took, also, the compass you had. These he set into a metal container, which he placed by one of the trees. He then withdrew from his greatcoat a black cloth. This he tied around your eyes. You felt your world darkening, in more than one way, as you were blindfolded. The prospects of you succeeding in whatever it was he had planned were looking slim.

General Hux placed a hand against the small of your back, pressing until you started to walk forward. You stumbled here and there, managing to catch yourself so that you did not fall into the snow. He seized your shoulder, spinning you around in a circle more than eight times. You felt rather dizzy, clumsily walking when again he began urging you forward. He did this a number of times more then ordered you to stop. You halted in place, feeling his fingers undoing the knot on the blindfold. He pulled the cloth back into his greatcoat.

You blinked a few times as you readjusted to the light. You then turned to consider your superior, who was standing as though nothing were amiss. “Survival one-oh-one, (L/n).” You tried to remember what the first steps were when confronted with such a terrain with no tools. You had no means to contact the base, you recalled, and thus you were expected to make a livable environment until such means could be discovered to reconnect with your comrades. Given that no hostiles were present—you assumed that wasn’t part of the exercise he was performing with you—fire would be a smart choice. It would not do to freeze.

If only it hadn’t been ages since you had implemented use of the fire-making skills you had learned in basic; you inwardly cringed as you stepped away from the man, who was watching your every move as though you were under a microscope. You essentially were, you reminded yourself. You picked up usable sticks and twigs, found a rock that would be workable as well. Why did you have to do this in front of the general of all people, you whined to yourself. Some would consider it a privilege. You believed it would be career ending.

It took you more time than you had wished to start the fire. Your heart skipped a beat when the flame remained for longer than a second. You nursed it to a good size, all the while attempting to remember the next step. If it came to needing a drink, you had plenty of snow. Food then, you decided. You observed the general walking closer to the fire while you went a few feet away. What vegetation there existed was currently covered in snow. You nudged some of the white aside with your foot.

Were there any creatures nearby, you wondered. Your eyes scanned the trees and what bit of sky was visible. You could make a rudimentary spear given a few minutes of working with a stick.

Snow crunched behind you. You tensed, aware that General Hux was drawing closer to you. “Know your limits.” It was a familiar phrase, one that had you touching your glove-tipped fingers to your cheeks. You moved to follow your superior closer to the fire. Your breath was visible as you felt your body warming; you had not realized how cold you had started to become. “In this scenario, we would be waiting overnight. What should be your next course of action?”

You glanced down at your feet. Snow. It would not do to sleep on the snow. The moisture would collect in the material of your clothing. “Sh-shelter…off the ground.” You spent a little more time at the fire and then moved to go collect some thicker branches to start making a floor. You took breaks here and there to warm by the fire, occasionally feeding the flame to ensure that it did not die.

Genreal Hux tested the strength of the floor by pressing down hard with a single boot. Finding that it would not give, he stepped onto it. You watched as it worked correctly, and you took a breath of relief before moving away from the fire once more. You found a rock that was hollowed a little. It would work to melt some of the snow, which would provide clean water to drink. You lifted the stone, pocketing it and then continuing on to look for food. You managed to find a few plants that you knew to be edible. You brought those back to the shelter, and sat by the fire.

“Night has passed,” General Hux said. It threw you off guard momentarily. “No signs of your comrades. There was a rendezvous set up with…” He paused, considered something for a moment, and then rang off a set of coordinates. You pressed your teeth together, wishing you at least had a compass. A map would be nice too.

You took a minute to remember another method to figure out directions. You picked up a stick that was straight. You found a patch of sunlight and stuck the stick straight in the ground. You marked the end of the stick’s shadow. Knowing you had a little bit of time, you proceeded to put out the fire. After around fifteen minutes had elapsed, you returned to the stick you had planted in the ground and again marked the end of the shadow. You drew a line between the two markings. Okay, you noted, west was the direction of the first mark. East the second. You drew a line perpendicular to the first. Now you had north and south. You took into consideration the coordinates. Unsure of your exact location, you tried to summon from your memory the location of the base. A portion of it. The coordinates to the place at which General Hux was said to deliver his speeches was known to everyone. You had headed south from there, which meant you needed to go north.

And then you remembered you had been spun around multiple times. He had blindfolded you. Had you gone deeper into the trees immediately, or had he first taken you to a different place? You swore in your mind, feeling your cheeks heating up as you found yourself flustered. Regardless, you reasoned, you would have to go north at least a bit. From there it would be knowing if you needed to head west or east.

 _Well,_ you thought, _I may as well get further lost or luck out and head in the right direction._

You swallowed hard, wishing for all the galaxies out there that you were heading in the right direction, and began walking. General Hux followed without so much as a word. He would give no indication one way or the other, you knew. Twenty minutes elapsed before you stepped out of the line of trees along with the general. Able to see the buildings, you were able to quickly deduce roughly the area at which the rendezvous point was located.

“Retrieve your belongings and report to Officer Idlens.” General Hux stepped around you, continuing on towards the building. You watched him for a number of seconds. He was so poised. You were unsure whether or not he was pleased with your work. If anything, at least he had not seemed angered.

You located the metal tin in which your belongings had been stored. You put them away on your being before entering the building in which you would meet with the female officer. Idlens was holding onto her datapad, scrolling through some statistics that had been sent her way. You greeted her with a respectful tone. Officer Idlens shot a smile your way. “Today you will be working hands-on with reading diagnostics regarding the defense system.” She held out her datapad for you to take. You accepted it, finding that she had pulled up a chart.

Your eyes roamed the chart. You attempted to decipher what exactly was being displayed. Ah. After a moment, you realized that it was the shield’s system. Since it was currently inactive for the purpose of being strengthened, the chart reflected both the current and projected states. You tapped one of the lines of data. A timeline was pulled up. Forty minutes at most for the upgrades to be completed. Realistically the shield did not have to be fully deactivated as it was. You figured that a mock test was being run somewhere to see how much support the shield provided. The only way to know that was to see what occurred when the shield was not active and then again when the shield was up.

Officer Idlens nodded as you reported this to her. She seemed impressed with your knowledge, the way you handled the datapad, easily navigating through the various charts and pulling up what you wanted to view with no issues. “You have quite a handle on things,” she remarked. You noted that she appeared to be relieved. You being a quick study meant less stress for her; she would not fall behind on her duties whilst training you.

Another day; this time you ate a chunk of meat along with your roll. You had had no time to make yourself a new batch of muffins, and were sincerely hoping that would change by nightfall. Tugging on your coat and hat, you exited the building and headed for the location you knew General Hux would be waiting for you. You halted suddenly, your hands raised above your head. The redhead’s mouth twitched at the edges, a sardonic smirk forming.

“If I intended to shoot you, (L/n), I would have reason enough to do so in front of any of the officers.” The sight of his blaster, despite his words, caused you to hesitate in lowering your arms. It was coded to his fingerprints. Had he been your enemy, even getting a hold on the weapon would have done no good. He gestured towards a second blaster, the weapon on a small tarp you had failed to notice before. “Do you know how to shoot?”

“Y… Uhm… Yes, sir.” You closed the distance that was between you and the weapon. Lifting up the second blaster, you inspected it to ensure all things were in order. General Hux in no way reprimanded you for questioning whether or not he would deliver to you a faulty weapon. On the contrary, he seemed impressed.

“How is your accuracy?”

“Er… sixty-seven.” It was your worst score, the only thing that threatened to hold you back.

“I want that at eighty by the end of the week.” He lifted his blaster, aiming. Your eyes followed his line of vision. A moving target, which he hit with the first shot. You bit down on your bottom lip, watching as the man pressed a button to get the next target moving. You started to take aim. Light was reflecting off the snow, causing you to squint. You lowered your weapon without firing it. Adjusting your cap, you managed to cast a shadow over your eyes. You then readied your weapon again, slipping your finger against the trigger. The target moved about, and you found yourself able to easier track its movements. When you pulled the trigger, you only nicked the target. Swallowing down your embarrassment, you took aim to finish it off. Another nick. The third time, you hit it dead center. “Again.”

This time you managed to destroy the target with your second shot, the first one missing completely. Rather than watching where your blast went, you found that the general had his eyes on you. A frown crossed his features. He walked closer, kicking at your ankle to get it to move further towards the right. General Hux then kicked the toe of your left foot. He rounded you, one of his hands yanking your left arm down, the other pushing your right arm inwards. He touched you only as long as he needed to, keeping the contact at a minimum.

“Again.” He pressed the button. You found that the slight adjustments in your posture were highly effective. Your aim improved, and the target was destroyed on your first try. Not to mention the kickback hardly had any impact on your body. “Replace your weapon.” As he spoke, he turned on the safety on his own blaster. You inwardly groaned, knowing what was coming. “Disarm me.”

You sized him up and found him to be a formidable foe. His entire stance spoke volumes of his confidence. His footing would make it difficult for you to knock him down. General Hux tapped a lone finger against the side of his blaster. Knowing he was losing his patience with you, that you were taking too much time as apprehension built, you decided to wing it. You went for his arm, the wrist of the hand that had the blaster. General Hux’s knee met your side. You grunted, however bit back the pain and caught yourself before you fell. You managed to catch his wrist between both your hands. In your peripheral, you caught that he was forming a fist with his free hand. You planted a foot firmly against his stomach, tugging.

Rather than punch you as he had been intending to do, the general merely shifted his foot, sweeping yours out from under you. You instinctually tightened your grip on his wrist to keep from falling on your ass. “What strategy is this, (L/n)?” he asked levelly.

“Panic, sir!” you said, closing your eyes and tugging at his wrist.

“I thought as much.” He grunted as you placed your second foot against his stomach. You had to give him props; the fact that you were pressing both your feet against his stomach and essentially dangling from his arm, he did not seem the least bit fazed. You knew you were getting snow all over his greatcoat, figured that he would be far from pleased, but all you wanted was to get that damn blaster out of his hand! “Are offensive techniques not a portion of your training? I would hate to think my officers are capable at the computer, but dead the moment they step outdoors.” You growled in the back of your throat, not even realizing that the noise left you. You lifted yourself a bit, sliding one of your hands further up his wrist towards his hand, the blaster. “You are aware that I am not even trying, are you not, (L/n)?” Your cheeks heated up. You swatted at the blaster, however it hardly moved from its position in his hand. Merely tapped to the side before returning to its former position. “Alright, Millic—(L/n),” General Hux said, correcting himself. You furrowed your brow, wondering whose name he had been speaking originally. “Down.”

“No, sir!” you said stubbornly. “I’ll get it!”

He sighed, adjusting his posture in a way that you were assisted in finding better footing. This only added to your humility. Still, you grabbed the blaster in one hand and tugged at it. His grip did not relent. “Are you quite done?”

You shifted your other hand up to meet its twin. With the blaster in both of your hands, you tugged and attempted to push off the man with your legs. He tightened his grip, tilting his wrist upwards so that the blaster was at a new angle. With an indignant huff, you found that your feet slipped onto the snowy ground. You stood there with your arms above your head. You turned sharply, tugging the blaster along with your hands. General Hux’s hand remained on it, resulting in you simply stumbling backwards into him.

“Valiant effort,” he said, half sarcastically. General Hux rotated his wrist, breaking free of your grip. You dropped your arms to your side. “Now— _oomph_.” He had not expected you to jump on his body, wrapping your legs around his waist and your arms around his arm. You twisted, shimmying a bit as you reached towards the weapon. General Hux seized the back of your coat around the neck and yanked you down. You fell to the snow on your ass with a grunt. Before you could launch yourself at him again, his boot met your chest. As he pushed you onto your back, you scooped up snow and flung it at him. “What. Are. You. Doing?”

You panted, wincing a bit at the pressure on your chest. You lifted a single arm, pointing at the weapon in his hand. “G…getting…th-that…s-sir.”

He removed his boot from you with a sigh. General Hux lowered the weapon so that you were able to grab it from him. Blinking, you stared up at your superior. He commanded you to stand. You did so, watching him all the while. The man turned his back to you, brushing aside the snow you had thrown at him as he walked a few paces away. Satisfied with the distance he had placed between the two of you, General Hux turned around. He stared at the blaster that was in your hand then at your face.

“Do not let me get the weapon from you.” You tensed and shook your head. “That’s an order, (L/n).”

“Y-y-y-y-yes…s-s-s-s-sir.”

The way he strode closer to you had you walking backwards in retreat right away. There was something almost predatory about it, a confident creature. His arm shot out, catching your wrist. He twisted it round as he kicked your feet out from underneath you. You grabbed at the blaster with your other hand, barely managing to keep your hold on it as you slipped downwards. It was due to his hold on your hand that you were not flat on the ground. You slid your legs at an angle, hooking them around his feet and raising yourself onto your knees whilst tugging the weapon back towards yourself.

Gritting your teeth, you moved to headbutt him. He caught the blow with the heel of his hand, shoving at you, though not enough to snap your neck. He moved his hand down to your shoulder and shoved a bit harder. You found you were slipping backwards, the blaster threatening to fall from your grip. You tightened your hold again. Adjusting your feet, you pressed back towards him. He pulled an unexpected move, stepping backwards quickly so that you launched forward. The momentum kept you going. You twisted last second, your finger hooked on the weapon as you grasped the blaster with only a single hand. Your feeble hold was nothing against a single tug from him. General Hux pointed the blaster your way and your hands shot up.

He frowned. “I am _not_ going to shoot you, (L/n).” It took you a second to realize he wanted you to try again, that he was handing the weapon to you. His finger was not on the trigger after all. “One last time. Afterwards you will need to warm yourself.”

“Yes, Sir,” you said as you took the blaster. General Hux aimed a kick at your face. You had not realized he was so flexible. Though you marveled at this, you dropped down so that his leg went over your head. You twisted, dropping the back of your foot towards his stoma—you were too low, your foot almost landing on a more sensitive part of his body. Hux caught your ankle in both hands. “Sorry, sir.”

He flung your leg away from himself, seized hold of the blaster, and in a quick motion turned off the safety. Your eyes widened and you released a yelp as a blast hit the snow roughly three inches from your head. “I’m gonna piss myself!” you screamed before you could stop yourself. General Hux had started to open his mouth to scold you, however his voice caught in his throat. All you could hear from him was the beginning of a syllable and then silence. He frowned. “You… You said you wouldn’t shoot me, sir!”

“Did I shoot you, (L/n)?”

You swallowed hard. “Te-technically no.”

“Did. I. Shoot. You. (L/n)?”

“No, sir!” Another blast, this time three inches to your other side. You whimpered, drawing your legs up towards your chest. The urge to pee was definitely there, and you did not know if you could contain your bladder if he shot again. You slowly raised a hand.

“Yes, (L/n)?”

“I… I have to pee, sir.”

A third shot, two inches in front of you. “Do you still need to, (L/n)?” he asked in the calmest of voices.

“…n…no…” You covered your face in shame, feeling the pool of wetness between your legs. “I peed my pants, sir.”

“You…” General Hux stepped closer to you, however kept a certain amount of distance. “What would you do if this weren’t a drill? If you were in front of your enemy?” He reached down, tugging you to your feet. General Hux put aside his blaster, his fingers working down the lines of buttons on your coat. An expression of disgust crossed his features as he tossed the sullied material onto the patch of yellow snow. You kept your gaze on his feet, mortified. Your embarrassment only grew when your pants fell around your ankles. “Out of them.” You managed to remove your pants without taking off your boots. “Those too.” He gestured towards your dirty underwear whilst shrugging out of his coat. He held it up in front of you, turning his face so that he was staring off to the side. You removed your panties, kicking them under your dirty coat and pants. “Put this on.”

Accepting his greatcoat, you immediately buttoned up the front so that you were no longer exposed. You looked to the bundle of clothing, however the man barked an order for you to leave it as he headed back toward the building. You followed after him, figuring that he would have someone else retrieve the items. Possibly destroy them. He did not enter the main building; instead you were led to your quarters. General Hux entered the room along with you. He turned while you grabbed fresh clothing. You first grabbed some baby wipes you kept for when you did not have a chance to shower and cleaned yourself. You then dressed, removing the greatcoat from your body and returning it to the general’s possession.

“You have a high level of panic it seems.” Those icy blue eyes swept over you. “We’ll repeat this exercise tomorrow. Be sure to empty your bladder before meeting me.” The general stepped closer to the door then paused. “You may have the remainder of the day to yourself. I urge you to research proper disarming techniques. Using your enemies as climbing trees won’t get you far.”

“Yes, sir,” you said. He stepped out the door. When it closed behind him, you groaned. “Fuuuuuckkk me!”

“I haven’t left yet, (L/n),” you heard from the other side. Wincing, you felt as though death would be a blessing. 

You strained, listening as his footsteps faded away. You waited a good ninety-seconds longer after the last footstep faded. Then: “Fuuuuuckkk me! I kiss him. I climb him. I pee in front of him. This training is going horribly.” You walked over to your bed, plopping down and grabbing up your datapad. You immediately set out to researching the aforementioned techniques.


	4. Gotta Hold on Tightly

Gotta Hold on Tightly

“Did you remember to use the restroom before coming?” Those were the first words General Hux said to you as you met up with him the following morning. Your cheeks instantly felt hot, and you nodded while casting your eyes towards the snowy ground. “Stop.” You paused mid-step, lowering your foot to the ground. When the man pointed his blaster your way, you flinched. A second later you jumped a bit in mild surprise and also released a yelp of sorts when the blast hit a few inches to your right. “Be silent, (L/n).” You trembled, your legs threatening to give out on you if you continued to lock your knees as you were. You attempted to hold back all noises when he fired again, however a whimper caught in your throat. General Hux fired two shots in rapid succession, each one only an inch from either of your feet. You stopped breathing. He must have noticed, as the man frowned and lowered his weapon.

The general set his blaster on the tarp before lifting the second he had brought. This he handed to you, and you managed to resume breathing as normally as you could under your present state of duress. He then stepped to your side, turning and facing the target he set in motion by a quick press of a button. You adjusted your posture as best you could into the one he had assisted you in the previous day. Raising your weapon, you released a small breath and took aim. Your accuracy, due to the minor adjustments he had given to your posture, had already improved. Still, you found yourself missing or only nicking a number of the targets.

When it came time to attempting to disarm the man, you found that he easily flipped you onto your back or else snapped you away from the weapon. All the same, he did comment that your strategy had improved. You weren’t, he noted, climbing him like a tree. General Hux also had you attempt to keep the weapon away from him twice before informing you that it was time to return indoors. You shadowed Officer Idlens for the remainder of the day.

Three more days transpired in this manner. On the fourth day you were instructed by the general to meet him that evening, directly before dinner, outside. You were to bring with you the normal gear you would use on an outdoor mission. When you inquired if that included a blanket, he shot a look. Were blankets part of the regulated supplies for such missions, he snapped back. Thus, sulking, you headed outside that evening with a mini survival kit that consisted of first aid supplies, your compass, a few provisions, and some minor tools. General Hux had his own kit slung across his shoulders.

The man led you to the area in which you had previously created the makeshift shelter. Your heart sank when your fears were confirmed; you would be spending the night outdoors. Those blue eyes slid over to you. You brushed aside any snow that had gathered on the shelter, adjusted the roofing so that it correctly blocked out more snow from gathering, and then set your kit inside. You collected some sticks to make a fire, doing so immediately.

Glancing over at General Hux, you found that he had also placed his kit within the shelter. Unlike you, he had also made the move of removing his greatcoat. You blinked then realized that he was intending to do the work along with you. The man marched away from your line of vision. When he returned you had a fire roaring. He placed the food he had gathered, including a small creature he had killed, where you could prepare them. You stared at the dead thing, wondering if the General had used his bare hands to end its life.

Dark was falling quickly, which hardly surprised you. You skinned the creature, skewered it on a stick, and roasted the meat over the fire. Being so near to the source of heat, you found yourself shrugging out of your coat. You shoved it into the shelter beside the general’s greatcoat. Those would be your blankets, you realized.

General Hux again disappeared, this time for a shorter duration. When he returned, he inspected the food you had prepared. The two of you ate in silence. Your heart was pounding in your chest as your anxiety mounted. Were you disappointing the general? He seemed to have taken a personal interest in your training, which was not necessarily a good thing. It definitely added more pressure, you noted. After you finished eating, you excused yourself. Leaving the campsite, you remained close enough that you could see the flickering flames of the fire. Still, you did not want to chance him seeing you peeing. When you pulled down your pants, you scrunched your nose at the cold air hitting your rear.

You returned to the campsite. General Hux had cleared away the bones of the creature and also put away the leftover edible vegetation he had gathered. You glanced toward the shelter, finding him sitting upon the flooring. The darker it got, the colder it was becoming. You eyed the fire, ensuring it was fine to be left alone while you ducked into the shelter. You brought your knees up to your chest, wrapping your coat around your shoulders but failing to thrust your arms into its sleeves.

Only when he ordered you to do so did you lay down on the flooring, covering yourself more fully with your coat and attempting to get some rest. It was pitch black outside where the light of your fire wasn’t touching. The trees and a coverage of clouds blocked what starlight there would have been. You shivered, your teeth starting to chatter. It was freezing; you had not realized how cold it dropped to at night on Starkiller base until that moment.

 _Please don’t ever let me be caught outdoors like this again,_ you silently prayed. You curled into a tight ball, your breathing irregular as you tried to warm yourself. You brushed your hands over your thighs, patting them to create some heat.

General Hux, apparently having heard you, ducked fully into the shelter. You could hear the wood creaking lightly under the pressure of his weight as he moved. When he laid on his side beside you, you instinctually turned over, inching closer to the warmth of his body. His arm draped over your frame, tugging you against him. You had not realized how badly you were shivering until you were pressed against his still frame. He was wearing his greatcoat, which was open to allow you to crawl partway into it along with him. Perhaps that was not his intention, you thought a moment later, and yet that was exactly what you did.

“Apparently the training regime you underwent has a number of areas that could use improvement.” General Hux grunted when you slipped your arms up under his. You buried your face in the crook of his neck. It did not occur to you in the least that you might be doing anything inappropriate. All you knew was that you needed to keep warm. That included rubbing your body along his, quite literally. You did what you could to create friction. You hardly realized that you were thrusting your hips against his until his hand met your side. It stilled your movements then began rubbing. His breath was hot on the top of your head.

You tilted your head back so that you could feel that warmth on your face. “F-f-f-u-cki-ng fr-r-r-r-rr-re-ee-zi-ng, S-s-s-Sir.” Your teeth clattered together as though to further make your point.

General Hux shifted into a sitting position and pulled you to where you were straddling his lap. Your knees were tucked against his sides, still under his greatcoat. Your arms were wound around his back. His hands were on your ass. You gasped when he bucked up into you the first time. He ground against you, his hands rubbing your ass. You felt yourself flushing, your body heating a little as arousal flared within you. Your breath hitched when he slapped your ass the first time, a flick of his wrist that had his hand meeting your ass in a way that forced your hips forward against his.

His hot breath on your face, the redhead repeated the action. You whimpered. “Ass in the air,” he hissed in your ear. Your fingers clutched at the back of his shirt. You gulped, shifting up to follow his command. The next spanking had you seizing your lip between your teeth. You whimpered, feeling his hand trailing up and down your ass. “Is this better, (L/n)?”

“Mm…y-y-y-yes,” you said, the heat that was traveling through your body due to your arousal indeed comforting. When he removed his hand, you shuddered. It took all your self-control to not whine at the loss of contact. It was to keep you warm, you told yourself. Nothing more.

A while later, when again your teeth were starting to chatter, General Hux rolled on top of your body. He rutted against you, dry-humping you in a way that had you immediately wrapping your legs around his waist. You ground against him, moaning wantonly. “Silence yourself, (L/n),” he growled. You grit your teeth to hold back the next whimper. Breathing through your nose, you felt as though you were suffocating. He knew how to move his hips, how to touch you—his hands were on your chest, your back. Rubbing you everywhere.

Again did he break contact before you could find release. Once more were you reminding yourself that it had nothing to do with sex. Perhaps, you noted, this was why he had not sent you out with anyone else. You had heard stories of trainees being taken advantage of during such exercises. The thought that sex would keep you warm would likely have made you to consent to just about anyone at that point. It was fucking freezing!

You cuddled against the general, managing to cover yourself with the coat he was wearing and yours. He hooked an arm underneath you, holding you. As your arousal died down, you found that you were able to drift off into a light sleep. You awoke in the morning atop him, your arms curled against his chest, your head atop them. He was holding onto you. Judging from the way he was breathing, you could tell he was awake. You pulled away, slipping off of him and sitting up. General Hux got up as well. The two of you ate a small breakfast of the provisions that had been provided in your survival kit. After this, the redhead took you to your living quarters so that you could shower and dress for the day.

You entered the main building alone; the general had previously left so that he could change for the new day as well. You would not be completing any outdoor exercises for the remainder of the day. Instead you were to shadow Officer Hido, who happily greeted you when you approached. You were pleased to see him as well, having missed his company though you did like Idlens. At the end of the day, you at last found yourself with time to spare to make some of the muffins and coffee you so loved.

Thus the following morning you were in good spirits, having indulged in your favorite breakfast, when you headed outside. General Hux appeared to be as impassive as ever, as though what he had done to you two nights previous had meant nothing. It didn’t mean anything, you reminded yourself, even if _you_ had had a rather erotic dream regarding him the night before. He waited for you to seize your blaster before pressing the button to start the target moving.

As you took aim and readied your finger against the trigger, you found yourself being assaulted. You landed on the ground, General Hux’s forearm against your chest. You winced as he stood. “You should be prepared against being attacked while you are attacking, (L/n).”

“Yes, Sir,” you said, rolling up onto your feet. You stood, preparing to take aim again, while also keeping him in your peripheral. Unfortunately, you found, this meant side-stepping and having to readjust your aim when he took a step to the left. When he made to tackle you the second time, you panicked. Had he been an enemy, it would have been a good move. Seeing that it was the general, however, perhaps switching your aim to him had not been a good thing.

His quick reflexes prompted him to thrust a hand up, the heel of his hand hitting the blaster’s nozzle so that the blast you released shot up into the sky. Your heart lurched into your throat. Eyes impossibly wide, you dropped your weapon and stood with your hands up in defeat. “Good,” he said, surprising you. You startled at the praise, your lips parting though no words left your mouth. “It seems your survival instincts are stronger than I had calculated.”

“S-Sir?”

“You need to strengthen your body still.” He crossed one foot in front of the other. Your eyes wandered along those boots. “Drop.” Without hesitation, you fell into position. “Count.” You started to obey without question. Lowering your body, raising it again. Lowering, raising. His eyes constantly on you, assessing you. He stepped over you, one boot planted firmly on your left and the other on your right, above your thighs. General Hux lowered himself. He had his knees on either side of your hips. “You should not be able to touch me with your ass.” 

You felt your cheeks heat up when you realized what he meant. Your ass grazed the front of his pants when you raised yourself. You adjusted your hands on the ground, lowering your hips so that your spine was not arched. You continued to do your push-ups, and he did not move. Instead, when you reached twenty, he placed a hand against your lower back, directly above your rear. It trailed up then down. You resisted the urge to press against his touch. Your mind wandered to the way he had touched you that night. Unconsciously, you had started to arch. When your ass brushed against his crotch this time, he withdrew his hand from your spine and snapped it against your ass. You yelped, feeling hot.

That leather-clad hand returned to the small of your back. You got through twenty-one, twenty-two, twenty-three, twenty-four. Twenty-five—a harsh slap against your ass. You bit down on your bottom lip. His hand rubbing where he had just hit. “Continue, (L/n),” General Hux said when you did not resume. You gulped down some air, once more adjusting yourself so that you were meeting regulations. It was growing increasingly harder, a wetness forming between your legs as he maintained his position above you. His fingers drummed against your spine as you counted past twenty-eight.

Licking your lips, you lowered yourself then rose. As you called out twenty-nine, he trailed his hand down to your ass. He rubbed, and it took all your willpower not to arch up into his touch, to keep your spine straight. You lowered again, lifted. Thirty. “Stand.” As he spoke, General Hux rose from his position. His hand left your ass. You stood, looking towards your boots. The hem of your coat fluttered as a light breeze blew past. “Take off your coat, (L/n).”

You unbuttoned said article of clothing, shrugged out of it, and folded it neatly before placing it on the ground. General Hux walked backwards until he was near a low-hanging branch. He summoned you towards him with a quick flick of his gloved fingers. Your eyes were trained on that leather, remembering how it had felt against your ass moments before. And that was with layers of clothing between you and it, you thought. General Hux ordered you to do a set of pull-ups, not assigning a number. You would be finished, you knew, when he was satisfied.

Lifting your arms above your head, you seized hold of the branch. You tugged at it, finding that it supported your weight with no issues. With that in mind, you curled your legs so that you were hanging from it. You pulled yourself up, lowered, up again. General Hux shifted about you, his eyes not straying from you. After two more pull-ups, you felt his breath on the back of your neck. You adjusted your legs so that you did not kick him as you raised yourself again. Lowered. He reached around you, his hand on your stomach. When you pulled yourself up again, his hand remained where it was. Except that it didn’t. You dragging your body up meant that his hand was now against your clothed pussy. You nearly lost your grip on the branch, however managed to not slip.

You lowered yourself, and the limb was once more on your stomach. Pulled-up. Touching you. You felt yourself growing wetter, hotter. Sweat was forming despite the coolness of the weather. You understood fully why he had had you removed your coat. It was all you could do to not buck into his hand when again you lifted your body. Your mouth formed an _o_ , however, when he hooked his fingers, grazing you. As you lowered yourself, he straightened his hand. Up again and he was hooking his fingers. They pressed against your clitoris through your clothing when you started to lower yourself and he did not immediately straighten them.

This time you did falter in your grip on the tree’s limb. Your right hand dropped, and your feet hit against the insides of his legs. General Hux’s hand rounded your body, meeting your rear in an echoing smack simultaneous to you regaining your hold on the branch with both hands. You whimpered, beginning to pant. He replaced his hand on your stomach, demanding that you continue. Your arms were shaking, yet you moved to obey, craving the feeling of him on you. You raised yourself and he again hooked his fingers against you.

“Hold,” General Hux ordered. Your arms were killing you, however you obeyed. He pinched your clitoris between forefinger and thumb. Releasing a half second later, he said: “Continue.” You lowered. Lifted again, those devilish fingers brushing against you. Lowered. Lifted. “Hold.” Pinching and rolling your clitoris through your clothing, your panties bunching uncomfortably. You dared not complain. “Continue.” Lowered. Lifted yourself, moaning as he not only hooked his fingers, but pressed tighter and rocked them back and forth. Lowered yourself once more, pausing as you tried to gulp in air. The hand left you, and you lost your grip on the branch when he slapped your ass. You dropped to the ground, on your hands and knees in front of him. “Very well. I can see we are done here.”

You were panting, your cheeks flushed, as he stood there over you, staring down at you. General Hux crossed his arms behind his back as though he had done nothing different from your previous sessions with him. Beginning to walk away, he called over his shoulder:

“Report to Officer Hido for your shadowing duties.”

 _Fuck, why couldn’t I hold on for longer?_ you thought, squeezing your eyes closed as your body ached for his touch. You ran your hands along your thighs, however you stopped immediately and balled them into fists. If you did not report for duty immediately, you would be reprimanded—and you doubted it would be a pleasurable experience in any manner. Thus, forcing yourself to ignore the pulsing, throbbing desire between your legs as your juices wet your panties, you walked over to retrieve your coat.


	5. Do It like an Animal

Do It like an Animal

The general was gone for the better portion of two weeks. He had left to board the _Finalizer_ in order to complete a mission given to him by Supreme Leader. Your outdoor exercises were therefore handled by Officer Hido, while the rest of the day you would shadow Officer Idlens. Your ability to handle the cold increased, as did the strength of your body. Finding that you required more nutrients to keep in shape, you added a lump of meat to your breakfast. In nine days’ time, you were grabbing not only the lump of meat, your muffin and coffee, but also a few slices of fruit. Near the end of the second week, you substituted the meat and fruit with a nutrition bar that held a better nutritional value, packed with vitamins and protein as it was.

On your first free day since beginning your training on Starkiller, you found yourself outside. You could not say what had drawn you out into the cold, however there you were. Perhaps it had to do with your daily routine. You entered the line of trees, and started to do pushups. Next you completed a set of sit-ups and then moved onto pull-ups. When you were done with this, you stared up at the tree. With a thoughtful hum, you pulled yourself up onto the lowest branch. You reached for the next limb, maneuvering yourself up and over. You were halfway up the tree before deciding that the spot was good. You sighed, settling your back against the trunk and peering around at your surroundings.

Silence. You had never quite realized how quiet it could be on the base, what with the buzz of equipment and talk as the First Order worked the planet into a functional weapon. The roar of engines, the occasional departure and arrival of ships, was the only thing that tarnished the quietude. You could see your breath. Pursing your lips, you blew so that it came out in a pattern of puffs. You smiled, tilting your head to the side and lowering your lashes as you stared down at the snowy ground.

Frantic swearing broke you out of your peaceful state. You looked towards your right at the pair of officers that had entered the woods. Their faces were rather pale. Panicked, you thought; their expressions were the epitome of panic. What was going on? You found your heart beginning to race in your chest at the thought that perhaps the enemy had managed to discover the location of the base, the fact that it even existed. Starkiller had not been leaked to the Resistance as far as you knew. If that were to change, it would mean… You were not entirely certain what it would entail, however knew it would be nothing good.

“How could you have dropped the cage like that?” one of the officers hissed at the other. “Damn cat got free and… The general is going to _kill_ us.”

“Man, I know, I know. It went this way though, I’m sure she did.”

Oh, you thought, it was not the end of the world. They had simply lost a cat—wait, you thought: the general had a cat? You blinked twice, remembering when you had been hanging from his arm and he had started to call you the wrong name. Your cheeks heated up. You had reminded him of his cat! Groaning, you buried your face in your hands. If anything, that only made it more confusing, the way he had handled you the last time you had been near him.

“Imbeciles!” a voice snapped, and you jumped. Catching the branch underneath you with both hands, you managed to not fall. The two officers tensed, halting immediately. The fear of their faces was pure as they slowly turned to face General Hux. The redhead, wearing his greatcoat and cap, was striding over towards them in such a predatory manner that you found yourself mentally saying goodbye to the unfamiliar men below.

“S-s-s-s-s-s-s-s-ir-r-r-r-r-r!” both men stuttered out, standing at attention.

You felt something brush against the top of your head. Pulling your attention away from the scene below, you tilted your head back to look at the branch above. An orange tabby cat was lying there, her paw dangling as she batted at your hat. Missing it, she patted your hair. You hesitantly raised a hand upwards, holding it a few inches from her face. She started to draw back initially then paused. The cat, which you assumed to be the general’s, lowered herself to where she was able to sniff your gloved hand. She released a low _mew_ and rubbed her head against the back of your hand. You raised your other hand as you pet her with the first. Slowly, you coaxed the cat towards you until you were able to pull her down into your lap.

You could hear General Hux continuing to reprimand the two officers that had allowed the cat to get away in the first place. After getting a good hold on the purring creature, you dropped your legs on either side of the branch so that you could get a better view of the three. Swallowing then clearing your throat, you spoke in a whisper. Shaking your head, you repeated your words louder so that the general could hear you. “U-uhm, sir? I think I have…your cat.”

At the sound of your voice, General Hux took a step backwards then looked up. His eyes roamed your face, switched to the creature in your arms, and then returned to you. “How long have you been in that tree, (L/n)?”

“Er…a bit, sir?” The two officers below chanced a look up in your direction then lowered their gazes to the ground. They appeared every bit apologetic, however you doubted this would lessen the general’s ire. “I… I’ll be down in a moment, Sir.”

You adjusted your hold on the cat, maneuvering your body at angles so that you could safely descend the tree without the feline getting free. She was much too busy purring and rubbing her head against you. Once or twice she released a small meow, staring up at you with those round eyes of hers. You paused on some of the branches to rub her ears, ensuring that you kept her content. When your feet touched the ground, your superior stepped closer to you. You straightened your posture, hesitant to act; were you to hand the cat over, or did he not want to get fur on his coat?

“Do you frequently climb trees, (L/n)?” the man asked of you. You shook your head, muttering out a soft _No, sir_. “Are you neglecting your duties to do so?”

“No, sir,” you said once more. “It’s my day off, sir.”

“I see.” General Hux regarded the two officers, who failed to meet his gaze in their shame and fear. The man’s jaw tensed. “Report to Lieutenant Mitaka.” The two responded in accordance to regulation then headed away to do as they had been ordered. General Hux returned his attention to you. “Do not let her free.”

He turned and proceeded to walk towards the buildings. You followed after him, holding onto the cat so that she could not escape. Her attention shifted about to various things. A blowing leaf, a swaying branch. She hardly squirmed, however, and so you found your task to be easily handled. Rather than enter the main building, as you were accustomed to doing when in the general’s presence, he instead moved towards a different set of doors. You felt the hairs on the back of your neck stand on end and your ears heat up. The private quarters of the higher-ranking officers. You supposed it made sense; where else would the cat be placed, but in the general’s personal quarters?

General Hux placed his hand against the sensor. It read his fingerprints through his gloves, and after a low beep the doors parted. You remained standing outside the door to his quarters. The redhead set aside his hat and greatcoat. He paused, turning to find you in the same position as before. Your eyes were wide, and your fear must have been all too apparent on your face. He gestured for you to enter, and you stepped only so far inside that the door could close behind you without catching you or your clothing.

Upon being told that you could release the cat, you squatted and opened your arms. The ginger tabby, quite familiar with her surroundings, pattered away with a light purr-meow mix. You rose once more, standing with your arms at your side. General Hux, ignoring your presence as though you were not in his personal quarters, stood with his datapad in hand. He flicked through some information. You did not know if you should leave or remain there.

“I see your accuracy has improved. Given that you were willingly outdoors, you have adapted to the elements.” As he was speaking, the cat returned. She rubbed against the man’s legs, arching her back and meowing at him. When he did not immediately move to pet her, the cat stood on her hind legs, tapping his knee in a pleading gesture. General Hux moved his eyes from his datapad to look at the cat. She released a plaintive _mew_ then rubbed against his legs again. The man shifted so that when the feline jumped on the couch, he was able to pet her. You could hear her purring from where you stood. “At ease, (L/n).”

You tried to relax at those words, yet found yourself to be just as nervous as a few seconds before. This was partly due to the fact that you had to use the bathroom after being outside for so long and then coming into the warmth. You were much too embarrassed to ask him to use his. You squeezed your thighs, pressing them closer together. Not oblivious to your current state, the general gestured towards the left and informed you that the bathroom was in that direction, the second door on the right. You hesitated then headed in that direction.

It was a basic bathroom, not that you expected anything spectacular. The quarters of those in training or of lower rank shared a bathroom with either one or two others; two to three doors would lead to the shower/toilet. That was one of the reasons that your neighbors were all of the same gender. Likewise, the dorms wherein multiple individuals bunked had either all female or males, or else there were two bathrooms. You found yourself marveling over the idea of having a bathroom all to yourself. No time limit for taking a shower. No worrying that you would be ill with either vomit or diarrhea while someone else was using the toilet.

Lifting up the toilet seat, you removed your coat and then lowered your bottoms. After you were done using the facility, you draped your coat over your arm, your hat in your hand. You headed back towards the entrance, pausing only when your surname was spoken by the man. He motioned for you to place your coat and cap on a chair, and you obeyed without question.

“You may sit, (L/n),” he said after you stood awkwardly for several seconds longer. Your eyes darted around the room. You had the option of sitting on the chair upon the back of which you had placed your belongings, or you could move over to the couch where he was. You chose the former, your back straight as you sat. It was hard for you to relax in his presence. He was strict—even if he was currently considering his cat with a tender expression as he patted her. His stern mask returned, and once more he was General Hux, the man in charge of the operations at Starkiller Base. “I understand that you have managed to carry out the tasks assigned to you.” He paused, and it took you more than a second to realized that you were intended to acknowledge him verbally. You did so, feeling rather stupid that it had taken you so long. “And yet there remains the fact that you deigned to tell me _no_.”

Your mind went over the incident he spoke of, the fact that you had attempted to refuse him something as simple as a muffin recipe. You had hoped, with it not being mentioned, that he had decided to overlook your minor act of insubordination. Your gaze was trained on the floor in a submissive gesture. You could feel him watching you, that cold stare unwavering.

“You also believed it appropriate to kiss me, did you not, (L/n)?” You squeezed your eyes closed. You wanted to protest, yet found yourself merely responding with a meek _Yes, sir_. “I see that you have still failed to grasp the importance of lip balm on this base.” Your breath hitch, your heart fluttered, and you felt your cheeks heat up. He was staring at your mouth, at the way your lips were chapped. Without realizing what you were doing, you ran your tongue along them.

General Hux moved to a desk that was within the room with a few quick strides. You watched him as he opened a drawer, withdrew a metal cylinder and then walk towards you. He twisted the object open, dipping his smallest finger, still covered by leather, into the lip balm. You remained perfectly still as that digit was placed against your lips. The balm felt slick against you as the leather smeared it along the outside of your mouth. He turned his wrist, his pinkie finger on the corner of your mouth as his middle finger pressed forward. He thrust it into your mouth, pressing against your teeth for a moment until you opened to allow him easier access. 

The taste of leather on your tongue caused you to swallow, which resulted in you sucking on the digit within. The man added a second finger, his ring finger, into your orifice. Your heart was racing as you shyly ran your tongue along the digits, between them. You gave a tentative suck, and the man started to withdraw. You felt rather dizzy as, the next second, he pressed them further into your mouth again. Thrusting them back and forth as you sucked on them, sliding your tongue along them and coating your saliva on the leather. You traced along the seams and swirled your tongue at the tip of his middle finger as again those digits moved in retreat. This time they did not stop, the man pulling away. A wet sound, quite like a popping, echoed in the otherwise silent room. A line of drool was between his fingers and your mouth. General Hux placed his thumb against your chin, wiping away the saliva from your face.

He spread his fingers, watching as your spit made a web between the two digits that had been in your mouth. “You’re excused, (L/n),” he said with a certain indifference. You swallowed hard, fighting off the urge to argue that you wanted to suddenly stay. General Hux screwed the lid upon the metal container, slipping it into your hand after you had stood and grabbed hold of your coat and cap. He pressed the object firmly into your palm. “Be sure to use this.”

“Y-yes, sir,” you said quietly. You felt his eyes on you the entire time as you went to the front door and exited his living quarters. You pulled on your coat and cap prior to leaving the building. With nothing else to do, you walked to your own living quarters. Once there, you sat on your bed, staring at the metal container that was in your hand.

You shrugged out of your coat and hat, placing them off to the side. All you could think about was the taste of his glove on your tongue. You set the lip balm he had given you on your dresser, kicked off your boots, and moved once more onto your bed. This time, you laid down on your back. You lifted one hand to your mouth, trailing your own gloved finger against your lips. Closing your eyes, you pretended it was him. In your mind, General Hux was again slipping his finger into your mouth.

Sucking on your own digit, you trailed your other hand down your body. You paused at your breasts, drawing light circles through the material of your shirt. You squeezed, toying with your breast and pinching your nipple through the three layers that protected it. Then, wrapping your tongue around the fingers that were in your mouth, you rubbed lower. With two fingers did you tease your lower belly. Down further and further, unbuttoning your uniform pants and then dragging down the zipper at such a teasing pace. You whimpered against the fingers that were in your mouth, gulping and squirming.

As soon as you could, you dipped your hand into your panties. The feel of leather against your pussy made you gasp, your mouth open as you panted. “Fuck,” you hissed, slipping two fingers down to your entrance. The leather dragged smoothly back up, coating your clit with your own juices as you again sealed your lips around the other glove. You bit into the leather, albeit not enough to hurt the flesh underneath or permanently ruin your gloves. Jerking your fingers against your clit, you thought of the way General Hux had spanked you on multiple occasions. You moaned at the memories and started to rock your hips in time with your fingers.

You drew your hand out of your mouth, ghosting the slick, saliva-coated tips along the side of your face. You imagined it was the general touching you, heard his voice in your head. The way he had said _kiss me_ , his mouth forming those words. Those wonderful lips, his hot breath. You grit your teeth, clenching your jaw as you trailed those fingers away from your clitoris and instead teased your entrance. You prodded then slipped the first, followed by the second, finger in. Setting the heel of your hand against your clit, you rocked into the leather. It was so smooth, inside of you as well. Your nipples hardened as you pleasured yourself.

You got up onto your knees, legs slightly spread as you withdrew your fingers. You trailed them up to your stomach then back down, pinching your clit. Up again to your stomach, just like how he had touched you when you were doing pull-ups. When you lowered your hand into your underwear again, you thrust your fingers back up into yourself. You rocked into your own touch, feeling the leather against you as you thought of his hand smacking your ass. Thought of doing pushups and your ass touching his crotch as he knelt over you. You started to grind down hard into your hand, remembering how rough he was with you.

Sweat was rolling down your body. “Oh, fuck. Oh, general, fuck…” You whimpered, feeling yourself growing closer and closer. The hand that was not inside your pants you trailed along your chest until you moved it back up. Along your neck. Just like how he had touched you when you had stayed overnight in the woods. Rubbing everywhere on you. Your sides, hips, ass, chest, and neck again. You wished you could thrust your hips against his again, that he would touch you. “Mmm…please, sir, make me cum,” you panted out, moving your fingers faster within yourself, pressing harder against your clit. You fucked yourself hard until you had to use your other hand to grab the bedpost, lest you collapse as your orgasm rushed over you. Even then you pumped your fingers up into yourself and stimulated your clit, riding out your orgasm in full.

Removing your hand from your panties, you opened your eyes to consider the whitish-clear substance on the leather. You pinched it between your thumb, forefinger and middle finger, rubbing back and forth then spreading your fingers multiple times. Would he make you clean his gloves after he did something like this to you, you wondered. You ran your tongue over your lips. Or would he want to taste you himself? The thought made you groan aloud.

Had he wiped off your spit from his glove after you had left? You wanted to think of him wrapping that hand around his cock, of him trailing your saliva along his shaft as he jerked himself off.

Or did he even want you?

You retreated from the notion immediately. If he had been arousing you simply to prolong your training in the cold, why would he have shoved his fingers into your mouth like that? But this was the general! You were not yet an officer, only a mere trainee. Perhaps he was simply bored and enjoyed toying with you. He had, after all, fired in your direction multiple times with his blaster—to prepare you for the battlefield, another part of your mind argued. You looked towards the lip balm that was on your dresser. It had been his. Why give you something of his when he could have simply ordered you to buy some? You ran your tongue along your lips, tasting the balm he had previously smeared on you.

.

.

You had feared that your training with him had ended, what with him commenting that you had improved while he was away. Directly before bed, however, you had been sent an amended schedule that you were to follow. Report for outdoor exercises first thing in the morning before shadowing the other officers. Your confusion over the way you had been interacting with your superior only increased as you ate your breakfast. You could hardly finish the muffin or coffee, throwing away a portion of each before heading to the bathroom. You were _not_ about to get caught off-guard and pee yourself again. The man was unpredictable, and for all you knew he would shoot the ground in front of you as you were walking, when you were least expecting it.

In the end, you were not shot at. General Hux stood with his arms crossed behind his back. His eyes swept over you as you found a spot to stand. Your gaze traveled around the area. No blasters in sight, which caused you pause. Rather than say anything, however, the redhead simply strode closer to you. You stood perfectly still though your mind began to race. His chest was to your back, his hands sweeping in front of you so that they were crossed. His left hand held your right wrist, his right hand your left. He tugged tightly, achingly so. You winced, hissing in pain.

“Break free from my hold, (L/n),” he ordered lowly. You attempted to tug your wrists from him, only then realizing the full extent of his strength, his grip. It was no joke. “I have you at my complete mercy. Were I an enemy, I could do anything to you.”

You hated your stomach for fluttering at his words. A fire was kindled between your legs that you could not will away no matter how hard you tried. You tried to move even a fraction of an inch, and that vice-like grip did not relent in the least. On the contrary, General Hux tugged your arms tighter. Closing your eyes, you jerked your head backwards in an attempt to catch his face. The moment you started to move as such, however, he uncrossed his arms. You were twirled around, losing your balance and slipping down to your knees. The man did not loosen his hold, resulting in your arms being stretched above your head.

You started to bring your legs forward, and General Hux thrust just one of his knees in your direction. You shifted to the side, the blow barely catching you. You grunted in pain, the sensation of which radiated down your entire side. Growling, you rose, twisting and attempting to pull your hands towards yourself. They budged only a little, while at the same time you moved your face closer. You gnashed your teeth in an attempt to bite him, however the man jerked your hand so that you bit it instead. Your entire body tensed as your teeth met your own limb. You were thankful that you were wearing leather, which took a good portion of the pressure.

Releasing yourself, you tried to roll your wrists, your forearms. He anticipated each of those moves, easily countering them to prevent you from freeing yourself. You growled in frustration. You planted one of your feet against his right thigh and the other against his left. At any point he could shake you off, you knew. You pulled, leaning backwards. In truth, you were half surprised that General Hux did not allow you to fall on your ass.

“Sir?” you said, replacing your feet on the ground. You were still tugging in meager attempts to free yourself. Those blue eyes lifted to your face, and you knew he was listening. “I… I don’t know how…to free myself, sir.”

“Are you conceding defeat, (L/n)?” he asked, his voice harsh. “To an enemy, that would leave you entirely at their mercy, forced to do anything for them. Consider your answer carefully.”

You shuddered at his words, not knowing if the spike in your arousal was warranted. He was merciless in so many ways. If he intended to punish you for your failure to free yourself, it may not be in any way pleasurable. You resumed your attempts to break from his grasp. His hold tightened further. Looking up into his face, you saw that his lips were curling, drawing back to reveal his teeth. He was not pleased with you, though you were uncertain why this was.

General Hux pulled backwards, forcing you forward. You stumbled, once more on your knees in front of the man. A boot slid between your legs, kicking them further apart. The next second, he rounded you, tugging your arms firmly behind your back. His knee hit near your spine, not enough to cause too much damage; the intent was to force you onto your stomach. He was kneeling with your ass between his legs again. You squeezed your eyes closed, willing away the memory of the last time he had been above you as such.

Yanking on your arms so that pain shot through your limbs, he asked, “Do you concede defeat, (L/n)?”

Your chest trembled as you released a shaky breath. You felt as though you had failed him as you said, “Y-yes… Yes, sir.”

His hands slowly released your wrists. A tingling shot through your arms as they slipped lamely to your sides. General Hux did not move from his position atop you. He placed one of his hands directly below your neck. The touch caused a shiver to run down your spine. He trailed his hand down, lifted it, and returned it to its former position. He repeated the action, literally petting you. You blushed at the sensation, turning your face and shifting your hands so that it was covered.

The man changed the way he was touching you. As he pet you this time, he lifted his hand mostly off of you, trailing a single finger down the length of your spine. You could feel him through your layers of clothing. He commanded you to take off your coat. You started to rise to do so, however he placed his hand firmly against you, shoving you back down. Understanding now what he wanted, you drew your hands under your body, working the buttons of your coat until you were able to withdraw your arms from its sleeves. General Hux grabbed onto the back of the coat with one hand, pulling it off of you completely and tossing it off to the side. You shuddered at the chill that ran through your body now that it had one less layer protecting it.

“Your shirt,” he said evenly, as though this were nothing to him. For you, it made your stomach both flutter and churn. You removed it in a similar manner to how you had treated your coat, and the man above you tossed it off towards the other article of clothing. “Undershirt.” You were starting to tremble in earnest, feeling both cold and fear traveling through your body. You grabbed at your undershirt, tugging it upwards and pulling it over your head. A gloved hand shot forth, snatching it up and throwing it as well. “Pants.” You had to arch your hips off the ground, which meant rubbing your ass against the crotch of his pants as you undid the button and zipper.

General Hux at last moved off of you, seizing the edge of your pants so that he could easily tug them down, over your boots and completely off your body. He demanded that you get up on all fours. Flinching at his authoritative tone, you obeyed. You stared at your gloved fingers. You still had your cap on your head, your boots on your feet. Your body itself was covered by only your bra and panties. Blinking, you watched your breath rising in front of you. Snow crunched, the redhead walking around you, inspecting every inch of you. He stopped when he was in front of you.

“Lick.” As he said that single word, he nudged your chin with the toe of his boot before replacing his foot on the ground. You did not know if you wanted to cry or not; you felt utterly humiliated as you leaned down and swiped your tongue along the leather. Was he displeased that you had conceded defeat in this exercise? You were to have viewed him as your enemy, and you had submitted to him. You flicked your tongue out of your mouth again, running it up the entire length of his boot. You did this several times before he once more started to walk around you. “You seem rather fond of climbing things, (L/n). Trees, I understand. Do you believe yourself to be a cat?”

“N…No, sir.”

“Meow for me.” You had not believed your blush could grow deeper, your cheeks any hotter. You squeezed your eyes closed again, feeling your heartbeat in your ears as you released a _meow_. At your side, General Hux placed his boot on the top of your spine. He pressed down until you lowered the upper half of your body, your ass still in the air. The man replaced his foot upon the ground then walked. You could hear the snow crunching for a few seconds before the sounds stopped. He was standing behind you. “You tend to display your ass when doing pushups, (L/n). Like a cat in heat. Howl for me like a cat in heat.”

You should not be getting aroused by this, you cursed yourself mentally. And yet you were. You took several deep breaths to keep from panting. You released a noise that you had never believed you would, howling like a cat in heat. “Again,” he demanded. You had no idea how he was able to be so controlled over himself, his voice not betraying a single thing. You repeated the noise. “Dress, (L/n), and report for duty with Officer Nhu.”

His footsteps moved in retreat, the crunching of snow becoming quieter the further away from you he went. You pressed your hands against the ground, hoisting yourself up and moving over to the pile of clothes. You dressed as fast as you could, your mind a mix of emotions and thoughts. You knew that you would be touching yourself again that night, imagining it was him thrusting up inside of you.


	6. Wiggling in Your Grasp

Wiggling in Your Grasp

When you arrived outdoors the following day, you found that your heart was beating so hard your chest hurt. You were both excited and nervous, never knowing what to expect. General Hux stood in his usual position and pose. Legs spread slightly, chin raised in the air a fraction of an inch, and his arms behind his back. His eyes swept along your entire frame as you moved to where you were roughly a yard from him. “Be aware of your surroundings, (L/n). Of your own condition.” Without further warning, he pressed off the ground towards you. You threw yourself backwards, angling your body to avoid the first blow. General Hux’s leg shot backwards, landing on the ground between your feet. You slid your left foot back, leaning then jumping away as he swung around. You narrowly avoided being kicked.

His hand shot forward, catching your wrist. You hissed when he closed his fingers tightly around you, tugging you towards him. You lifted your knee as you were brought closer. The man grunted when you managed to land a light blow on his thigh. His other hand grabbed at the front of your coat. You thrust your hand upwards. He tilted his head, causing your attack to miss both his nose and chin. You instead grazed his cheek. General Hux threw you onto the ground. You landed on your back. Before you could roll away, he was on top of you, one of his forearms pressed firmly against your collarbone while he grabbed at another portion of your body with his other hand.

You did not bother to pay attention to what the other limb was doing. You merely brought your legs up, setting the soles of your boots against his chest. You used all your strength to push at him. The man drew back. He, however, had a hold on your coat, tugging you along with him. Before you could react, he seized the other side of your coat. Bunching the material in his hands, he twisted, his knee knocking into your side. You felt a sharp pain, felt air leave you as the impact caused you to turn around. General Hux jerked upwards, twisting your coat around multiple times. You felt yourself being dragged backwards, felt your arms being yanked above your head as your coat was pulled partway from your body.

You attempted to tug your arms out of your sleeves as you were affixed to a low-hanging branch with the material. When you were unable to do so, you looked up. He had wound the material so tightly, in so many loops that there was no give. At the current angle, you would not be able to withdraw your arms without dislocating your shoulder, and him standing in front of you was preventing you from moving the coat off the branch to free yourself.

Snarling, you gripped at the material, swinging forward and upwards. You managed to hook one leg over the branch before the general seized the ankle of its twin. He yanked you down harshly before you could finish angling yourself to free your arms. You winced, feeling your arm protest as you landed with a grunt. It almost felt as though something was going to tear. Not your coat, unfortunately. A muscle or tendon if you weren’t careful.

You grit your teeth, glaring in frustration. “Do you concede defeat, (L/n)?” your superior asked, staring down his nose at you. You threw a kick his way, and the man punched your inner thigh, knocking away your leg. You whimpered, a sensation of numbness shooting through where he had hit. That would be sporting a bruise. He seized your chin in a single, gloved hand. Squeezing your jaw, he jerked your head backwards so that you were looking him in the eye. “Well?”

“Yes,” you said through your teeth. As a member of the First Order, the idea of admitting defeat to your enemy sickened you. Even if this was only a training exercise. At the same time, you were terrified and excited about what the man before you planned to do with his victory.

“At my mercy again,” General Hux said simply in that level tone that had you tensing. He released your jaw, reaching into his coat. You felt a coldness envelope your chest when he withdrew a collar that was affixed to a leash. Without so much as a word to you, he placed the collar on your neck. The leash he wound around the branch of the tree, tying it in a knot you knew you would not be able to easily loosen. Having placed the leash behind the coat, he led you forward, maneuvering the coat off the branch and then untwisting it to free your arms. “Remove your shirt.”

You shook your hands, regaining feeling in your arms before starting to obey. General Hux said nothing, allowing this since it was necessary. You unbuttoned the front of your shirt, shrugging out of it. He stepped forward, yanking your undershirt up. He pulled it over your head, allowing it to dangle on the leash just behind your head. The man seized up your wrists, tucking them into your undershirt, using the material to bind your limbs to the leash. Your hands were stuck above your head in a position so that you could seize hold of the leash should you start to lose your footing. It was to prevent you from being hanged, you realized.

You gulped, the leather of his gloves on your skin as he removed your pants, working them over your boots. Believing this to be the extent of you being stripped, you heard your own sharp, nasal inhalation when he yanked your panties off in the same way. You shuddered as the cold met your bare ass. His eyes roamed freely over your nakedness. General Hux walked to your side. His breath was against your ear. Hot as ever. Your teeth clattered from not only the cold, but from arousal, fear, and anticipation. You sincerely hoped he did not plan to leave you here alone until you could free yourself. Not in this state. He trailed two fingers up and down your hip.

“Anything can be used against you as a weapon, you understand,” he said. His words filtered into your ear, his breath washing over you as he spoke. You lowered your eyes to the ground. His fingers left you as his hand flicked behind you. With a snap of his wrist, he delivered a light smack to your naked ass. You bucked your hips, releasing a light noise at the impact. “A loose shoelace could be your undoing. Always be aware of your surroundings, of your own condition, (L/n).”

“Yes… Yes, sir,” you said softly. He placed his palm against your ass. The leather was cool from the outdoors, and you shifted forward in an attempt to retreat from that coolness. His touch left you momentarily; another slap, harsher than the first, landed on your behind. He rubbed you again, running his thumb up and down, inching his fingertips back and forth along your skin.

You hung your head as best you could with the collar on. General Hux shifted position once more. He stood behind you, placing that hand against your stomach. He touched your hip with his other hand then moved the first down to your pussy. You trembled at his touch, which trailed upwards to just below your belly button. Lifting his hand, he placed it once more on your sex. This time, as he pet you, he used just three fingers to touch you. You pressed forward into the touch. He snapped his hand roughly against you, not enough to actually hurt—no, if anything, it stimulated your clitoris. You whimpered, curling your toes.

Arching, you pressed your ass against the front of his coat, attempting to grind your rear into his crotch. You wanted to feel him, to see if he was aroused. You were beginning to breathe hard. General Hux shifted back away from you. He spanked your proffered ass then reached up to the leash. He adjusted the knot, allowing a little more slack. The man kicked your legs out from underneath you. On your knees, you swallowed thickly when your superior moved in front of you.

The man reached forward, petting the top of your head down to your neck. Repeating this action multiple times, as though you were just a creature and not a human. You tilted your head back, staring up at him. “As though you’re in heat again, (L/n).” You _loved_ the way he said your name like that. Practically hissing it, as though there was something raw and animalistic he wanted to do with you.

You pressed your legs tightly together, rubbing your thighs together in an attempt to stimulate yourself. His boot slipped between your knees, preventing you from continuing in these actions. You whimpered, releasing an almost keening whine. “Please, sir, I—“ He once more squeezed your jaw in one hand, the leather digging into you. A second later he released you, stroking the side of your face.

“I know _exactly_ what you want, (L/n).” He practically sneered at you. General Hux unbuttoned the front of his greatcoat, withdrawing his arms from the material and shifting so that it hung from his shoulders. You could see a bulge in the front of his pants. You again swallowed hard, pressing your lips tightly together and digging your teeth into them from inside your mouth. He pressed his right hand against your mouth, the palm directly before your lips. “Lick.” Your tongue immediately shot out, lathering saliva all over the leather. You slickened it, closing your mouth and sucking at nothing to produce more saliva until again were you able to coat your tongue with spit. You lapped at the leather as though you were indeed in heat.

General Hux placed his left hand near the front of his pants. He undid the button then pinched the zipper between forefinger and thumb. You moaned whilst drawing a circle with your tongue along his glove at the sound. He rolled his foot onto its heel, pressing the toe of his boot firmly against your cunt as he withdrew himself from his pants. You spread your legs further, grinding against the leather boot between them. General Hux pulled his hand away from your mouth, setting the slick surface on his throbbing erection. He pumped himself, staring down at you. You arced your back, seizing hold of the leash as best you could with your hands whilst throwing your head back.

He rolled the toe of his boot around in a circle, jerking himself as you rubbed your clitoris against the man’s shoe. Your eyes were trained on his cock. General Hux drew a single finger along the head, tracing his slit, and smearing the pre-cum that was leaking. He replaced his boot firmly against the ground. To your dismay, you found there was not enough slack in the leash to allow you to press down against it. You winced as the collar dug into your throat when you attempted to do so.

“Open your mouth,” he ordered. You eagerly obeyed, wanting him to fuck your mouth. When you started to lean forward, your hot breath meeting his cock, he rocked back on his heels just enough to ensure you could not. You whined again, squirming against your restraints. Your tongue flicked out against your lips. General Hux reached down with his free hand and petted the top of your head. He fucked his hand, working his cock as he stroked you as though you were his pet. Your eyelids fluttered, his cum hitting your open mouth, your chin, your chest as he came. He pumped himself through orgasm, using his fingers to wipe himself clean. These he shoved into your open mouth, and you eagerly sucked, tongue roaming over those digits as you lapped at the tangy, sticky substance that coated them.

He whipped his hand away from you, tucking himself back into his pants while moving to where he could tighten the leash on the branch again. You were forced back onto your feet. You trailed your tongue along your mouth, drawing in all of him that you could. Your tongue retreated back into your mouth and you groaned when he delivered the first spanking.

Your ass was going to be raw, you thought as he slapped it again. Your hips bucked forward, and you found your arousal flaring. “Do you want to cum, (L/n)?” You nodded frantically, unable to trust your voice. He grunted in response. A second later, you felt him undoing the knot he had turned your undershirt into. Next he untied the leash. General Hux drew your undershirt down its length, tossing the clothing towards the rest of your uniform. He wrapped the leash around his hand, pulling you ever closer. He placed one boot against your knee, pushing down so that you were forced to lower yourself. “Touch yourself.”

Blushing, panting, you ran both hands along your thighs. Upwards, stroking your hips before trailing your hands to your thighs, spreading your legs whilst touching the insides of your legs. You ghosted the fingers of your left hand over your outer lips. Then, slipping those digits between your slit, you drew your juices towards your clit. You rubbed, grinding down into your own touch. Your right hand had begun its ascent up your body; already it was at your neck, your cheek, in your hair. You trailed it back down, gathering the semen that had landed on your chest before bringing your fingers into your mouth. You sucked hard, flicking your clit.

General Hux tugged at your leash. You paused in your actions to look at him. He tugged again, pulling you closer. You tried to stand to move to him, however his boot pressed down on your shoulder. Now on all fours, you found yourself crawling to him. It felt so wrong being so aroused by the way he was treating you. He stroked the side of your face. “Do you want me to touch you?” You nodded. This time, he did not accept a nonverbal response. He yanked at the leash, and you whimpered a little at the way the collar dug into you for a moment. “You were asked a question, (L/n).”

“Y-yes, sir,” you said, practically pleading. He tugged again at the leash, angling it so that you became aware his intentions were for you to stand. The man maneuvered you over to a tree. At his command, you had both your palms against the trunk, your body at an angle and your feet apart from one another.

The general pet at you, running his hand down the length of your back, directly along your spine. He set the hand around which the leash was wrapped against the tree. You glanced up at it, however soon became distracted with his breath hitting your neck. With his other hand pressing against your lower belly. Rubbing down, those wonderful fingers hooking and inching towards your cunt. He slipped his middle finger into you first. Your lips parted into an _o_ , and you practically _mewled_ when the second finger entered you. He pumped those in and out of you. Adding a third, he leaned closer. You felt a wetness touching the back of your neck. His tongue, swirling along your skin only to be replaced by his teeth. He bit the back of your neck in a way you could only describe as a gesture of claiming. You pressed your ass against his front, and this time he ground his hips into yours. His fingers started to fuck you in earnest.

“Do you like this, (L/n)?” You moaned, grinding down into his fingers. You could feel him curl and uncurl them within you. Whimpering, you nearly cried when he removed those digits from you. Your hips bucked forward as that hand, coated with your juices, met your ass. “You always have this ass of yours in the air for me.”

General Hux pressed against your shoulder, turning you around and forcing your back against the tree. He lowered himself onto his knees, the hand holding the leash against your stomach. He hooked your right leg over his shoulder, and you naturally set your left leg on the opposite side. You reached behind yourself, holding firmly onto the trunk of the tree when his mouth enveloped your wet cunt. You rocked your hips forward, feeling his tongue swiping along you. He moaned against you, his teeth grazing your clit then seizing it. He tugged, and you nearly came undone. Before you could reach your climax, however, he pulled away. You gasped, grunting when he whipped you forward and shoved you onto your back.

You bit down on your bottom lip, groaning and pleading, “Please! Please, General, I—“

He thrust his fingers up into you again, working you. You moaned, trying to fuck yourself fast and hard on them. You were so close, so close, and—he removed his hand from you. Your eyes shot open, tears filling them. He pressed the heel of his hand against your pubis, rubbing hard, fast. You could feel your walls beginning to pulse. And, once more, he was no longer touching you.

“Please, sir!” you whined, practically screaming.

“Were I your enemy, would I be interested in _your_ pleasure, (L/n)?” Your jaw fell slack, and a sob tore itself from your throat. He tugged you up, winding the leash further around his hand until his glove was touching the collar that was around your neck. He set his mouth beside your ear, hissing through his teeth: “Be thankful I am _not_ your enemy.” Before you could think of those words, he cupped your pussy, rocking the leather hard against your clit. This time he let you come undone. You threw your head back, panting and moaning. Your entire body shuddered as your orgasm rocked through you. You felt your vision blacken at the edges and so closed your eyes.

You collapsed backwards, your chest heaving as you tried to remember how to correctly breathe. You felt his hands at your neck, undoing the collar. Weakly drawing an arm over your eyes, you heard him placing the leash and collar into the pocket of his greatcoat. A moment later, he was tugging your arms through the sleeves of—you opened your eyes and furrowed your brow. He slipped your body into his coat, sliding his arms underneath you and hoisting you up. He carried you out from the woods.

Your eyes were wide, your chest rising and falling deeply as you watched his face. Impassive. As though none of that had transpired. General Hux adjusted his hold on you when he arrived at the door to his quarters. You tensed in his arms, curling your limbs closer to your body. The redhead all but threw you onto his bed, your head landing on his pillow. You felt him tugging off your boots before anything else registered. He snatched your arms out of the sleeves of his coat, unhooked your bra, and set the item off to the side. Your hat had fallen off during some part of your activities in the woods, and thus the last things he removed from you were your gloves.

It was only when he took off his as well and started to run his bare hands along your flesh that you realized what he was doing. Naked for so long in the elements, your skin had a new hue that was _not_ only due to arousal. You gripped at his coat, drawing it closer to your body. Ignorance had been bliss, as you realized just how cold you were. You shuddered, feeling the general’s hands rubbing heat back into you. After a few minutes longer of doing this, he pressed your arms back into the sleeves of his greatcoat then pulled his bed sheets over your body. You watched as the man walked to the closet, pulled out a spare blanket, and covered you with this as well. He exited the room.

When you awoke—when had you fallen asleep, you wondered—you felt an added pressure against your stomach. You tilted your head down so that you could see what it was. The general’s cat was cuddling against you. She did not stir when you shifted a little. You slipped out from underneath the blankets, looking around the room. You could not hear anyone in the general’s living quarters. Stepping cautiously outside of his room, you slowly moved into a few of the main areas to find that he was not there. Before doing anything else, you decided it would be wise to use the bathroom. You used your hand and some water to wipe off the traces of sex that still clung to you.

You walked back into the main room when you were done. You were dressed in only the man’s greatcoat—how were you supposed to leave when that was all you had to wear? Goosebumps formed on your flesh. You looked to see if a note had been left for you at all, anything that would provide information as to what General Hux expected of you. You were a bit shaky on your legs, which did not surprise you. Your butt was rather sore, though not in a horrible way per se.

You made your way back to the bedroom, slid next to the cat, and covered yourself up with the blankets. The orange tabby rolled onto her side, peeking up at you through half-lidded eyes. You reached down, petting her.

The sound of the front door opening then closing had you pausing in your movements. Boots on the ground. Those footsteps drew nearer to the bedroom. The cat perked up when General Hux entered. She rose with a sort of rolling _meow_ and pattered over to him. He met her halfway, stroking the top of her head as she placed her front paws against the lower half of the bed frame. Though he was touching the cat, the redhead’s eyes were on you.

“S-sir?” General Hux removed his hand from the cat. Once more did his booted footsteps fill the air. They ceased only when he was at the head of the bed. You were clutching the front of the greatcoat, holding it closed. His hand shot out, smacking your knuckles so that your hold faltered. The coat fell open. General Hux seized your upper arm, tugging you off of his bed. You clumsily placed your feet on the ground as you were forced up. As you gained a proper footing, the man grabbed the back of the collar on his greatcoat and tugged, yanking it off of your body. You pressed your legs towards one another, covering your chest with one arm while you dangled the other so that you could cover your crotch with your hand.

“Don’t be modest, (L/n),” the man said, flicking his gaze along your body. You drew your hands away from yourself, forcing your arms to your sides. He touched a hand against your side, which caused you to wince. You looked down, wondering how you had failed to notice that it was bruised. A result of your training session. You understood now why he was not allowing you to obscure any portion of your body from his view. The man slowly made his way around you, circling as he inspected the damage he had done. “I will grant you four days of reprieve from our sessions,” he said, touching directly under the bruise on your side. You could tell, and were thankful for the fact, that no ribs had been broken. You doubted you could have enjoyed your sexual encounter with him if one had been. “I expect you to use that time wisely. Study more on defensive and offensive techniques.”

“Yes, sir,” you said, feeling rather awkward as you continued to stand there, naked, in his bedroom.

“One of your uniforms is set on the couch. You may dress and leave.”

You lowered your eyes to the floor. “Yes, sir.” Your voice felt thick in your throat as you spoke. You exited his bedroom, found your clothing, and dressed quickly. It hurt a little, what with how your muscles were protesting each movement you made. You ignored this as best you could, walking out of the general’s living quarters and heading to your own.

Once in your own place, you found your datapad and sat on your bed. You sighed heavily, scrolling through your messages. You had already been given an amended schedule by the general. No training sessions with him for four days, as he had mentioned. You were not set to shadow any of the officers until the following day. Running a hand along your throat, you thought of what you had seen of your reflection in the mirror of the general’s bathroom. The beginnings of bruises there from where the collar had dug in. Your uniform had a high enough neck that these marks would be hidden out of view from the officers.

He was leaving marks on you, you thought, however he had yet to kiss you. Not on the mouth. It was raw and animalistic what he did to you. Not tender in the least. Well, you said in your head, you could do without actual tenderness. A harsh kiss on the mouth, even, would be something.

A low beep emitted from your datapad, indicating a new message had arrived. You touched the icon. Another amendment to your schedule. Instead of reporting to Officer Nhu the following morning, you were to report to General Hux. You tossed aside your datapad, feeling a bit shell-shocked. Numb even. It had felt wonderful—better than you could have imagined—when he had been touching you. In no way was he neglecting your training either; you noticed the impressed looks you were receiving from the officers stationed on Starkiller. Your skills were improving daily, which was no surprise given that you were being personally trained by a general.

The issue, you realized, was that he never seemed to be fully satisfied with you. You wondered if this had to do with that one incident, the one time you had told him no. He had nearly sent you away that day, nearly discharged you from the First Order.

So wrapped up in your thoughts were you that you failed to hear the knock on your door. You tensed when the door to your quarters opened, and your eyes widened and shifted about General Hux’s frame when he entered. Your gloves were in his hands, and you realized suddenly that your hands were bare. Seeing you lying on your side upon your bed, the redhead stopped directly inside your quarters. He twisted at his torso, pushing the button that caused the door to close, and then walked further into the room. He tossed the gloves onto a pile of dirty clothing before moving over to your bedside.

You had not so much as sat up that entire time. You watched him from your position on your side, turning your head so that you could look up at him when he was closer. It hardly dawned on you that this was your general, that you should have risen the moment his presence had been made known to you. You had yet to verbally greet him either, another fact that escaped your notice. It did not, however, elude him.

“Is a visit to med-bay necessary?” His voice was quiet compared to its usual volume, though his tone remained the same. You responded with a rather feeble sounding _No, sir_. “Speak, (L/n)—I won’t waste my time with guessing games.”

“…it’s noth—“ you began then paused. You awkwardly pushed yourself up so that you could stand before him. Proper protocol returned to you, and you moved into a more formal stance in front of the general. “I…am very confused…about what…what we did.”

“Because I did not kiss you?” he asked levelly, and your eyes shot up to his face. General Hux did not so much as bat an eyelash. “Do you not believe that I am capable of deducing what those around me desire, (L/n)? I would hardly have advanced so far if I remained oblivious to such things.” You started to lower your gaze, a sort of pit rolling around in your stomach. The man cupped your chin in one of his hands, tilting your head back so that you had no choice but to look him in the eye. “If you want to be rewarded with a kiss, (L/n), then I suggest you succeed in one of the tasks I give you.” His thumb ghosted over your bottom lip as he spoke. Your breath hitched, the man leaning forward so that the tip of his nose nearly touched yours. “And if you attempt to kiss me before then, there will be consequences.” His lips touched the corner of your mouth for a millisecond. You closed your eyes at the sensation. “What is your accuracy?”

“Seventy-nine,” you said with a wince. He was already aware of this, no doubt, having full access to your file. You were one point away from the eighty he had demanded of you.

“Have you disarmed me yet?”

“No, sir.”

“Have you kept the weapon out of my grasp?”

“No, sir.”

“You are not permitted to kiss me yet, (L/n), until one of those answers changes.”

“Affirmative, sir.” Yet with him keeping his mouth directly in front of yours, that breath of his hitting your face. You blinked. It wasn’t kissing, not really. You opened your mouth, tracing your tongue along his lips, which parted. You trembled when his tongue darted out against yours. General Hux reached forward, seizing your collar in a single fist. He tugged you closer, your mouth nearly meeting his, yet you managed to avoid this. Your tongue danced along his, which pressed down on yours after a moment. He worked your tongue into submission, forcing it to retreat back into your mouth.

“Careful, (L/n),” General Hux growled, “that you don’t forget your place.”

“Beneath you, sir?” you whispered hotly. The hand on your collar jerked up, again seizing your jaw. His mouth met your chin, which he nipped lightly before drawing back. General Hux withdrew from you, striding out of your quarters as though nothing had transpired between you. His self-control astounded you. Part of you wished he would lose it, even if only for a minute.


	7. Have a little Taste

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Man, this chapter had about 20 errors. Definitely happy I went through to fix this one up.

Have a little Taste

When you reported to General Hux the following day, he acknowledged your presence with a simple once-over. He then turned to address the officer at his side. Said female was informing him of an alteration in the scheduled shipment of new stormtroopers that would be assigned to the base. The ship they were to embark on had a glitch. This had been discovered only after they had boarded, though thankfully before takeoff. The result was a three hour delay from the previous ETA of the ‘troopers. General Hux rattled off a few commands that would ensure this change did not affect the overall productivity of the scheduled events. All officers involved in assigning tasks to the new stormtroopers were to be informed so that they were not waiting around, twiddling their thumbs when work could be done in the meanwhile.

The female officer, whose name you had not caught, glanced your way as she took her leave after being dismissed by the general. You met her gaze, brief though it was, before turning to your superior. He strode from the room, and you swiftly moved to follow him. It was much different, being near him whilst in a workplace setting. Not outdoors, not being attacked or otherwise ravaged by him. General Hux went about work as usual, you tagging along. You listened and watched the way the officers addressed him. Giving him diagnostics, reporting anything of importance to him.

Not once did he slouch, his posture always demanding respect, which was readily given by all his subordinates. A few glanced your way though they did not address you. You found this routine to be both mundane and intriguing. It had never occurred to you how even the most minor things were of some importance to the man. You thought back to when he had believed someone was stealing his breakfast—when in reality he had simply been taking yours—and understood why his displeasure was something noticed by all the officers that came into contact with him. With the amount of responsibilities he held, that single interruption in his day had likely been all the more unwelcome.

An officer approached General Hux with a matter pertaining to another officer’s act of insubordination. You could see the redhead’s jaw clench, a minor twitch that was the only open display of displeasure. He would not stand for such things. “Has he been re-evaluated?”

“I was instructed to report to you regarding scheduling the test, Sir,” the officer responded. “It is his second offense of back-talking to a superior.”

“Relieve him of all duties. I want this matter resolved by the end of the day—see to it that a ship is prepared. Regardless of the results of his test, he has no place on this base.”

“Yes, sir.” The officer nodded sharply. He continued down the hallway past the general, pulling out a communications device as he did so.

The situation did not sit well with you. You were recounting again the incident with the muffin recipe. If you were to mess up a single time, would he send you away? It would, after all, be your second strike. General Hux was already displaying fully how easy it was for him to compartmentalize work and pleasure, separate the two even if he did indulge in certain liberties during your training. At the end of the day, he was the general, and you… You were only a trainee.

“Sir?” you found yourself saying when you realized that no one else was in the hallway with the two of you. The general slid his gaze to you, saying your surname in acknowledgement. “I… Sir, I—did my initial refusal to write the—“

“It was a repeated refusal, (L/n).” You flinched at that stern tone of his. “Everything is taken into consideration. Do not believe yourself to be exempt from the standards.” You lowered your gaze to the ground. General Hux began to walk, and you obediently followed him.

At lunch you were permitted to leave his side in favor of heading for the cafeteria. You picked up a tray, getting in line behind some of the stormtroopers and the officers. Conversation filled the air. You stood there awkwardly; though you could comfortably chat with any officer you were set to shadow, you had yet to engage in any sort of social activity outside of your training. You tapped your thumbs against the edges of your tray, stepping forward as the line moved.

Officers Nhu and Conrad entered together. The latter glanced over at you with a frown. You had heard that he had been reinstated in his position after three days of suspension due to his failure to ensure your training included outdoor exercises. He had not spoken to you a single time since, opting instead to either sneer at or ignore you. Having been shadowed by you lately, Officer Nhu inclined his head in brief greeting, however that was the extent of the attention he paid. You wondered if things would change once you gained the title of officer.

Silence fell suddenly. You looked up, lowering your gaze immediately when Commander Ren entered the cafeteria. He was on Starkiller for only a short while you had heard. You had not thought you would catch sight of the man, whose temper caused many of your coworkers to sweat. Even then, you could see sweat gathering on the back of the neck of the stormtrooper that was standing in front of you. Commander Ren was joined by one of the Knights of Ren, both of the men—you assumed the other Knight was male—walking to the counter. They cut in front of everyone.

The two pointed at a few items they wished to be placed into containers. The food that had been delivered to them, it seemed, had been incorrectly cooked. The one Knight that had failed to realize this before taking a bite was already vomiting. _Poor guy,_ you thought. This fact did explain why they carefully inspected each container of food to ensure that everything was to their liking. The various containers were placed on the ledge before them. Soon there were at least eight cups.

You felt a chill run through you when you held your tray out in front of you towards the Knights. “U-u-uhm… Do… Do you want this, sir?” The unnamed Knight looked down at your tray then towards the food. Kylo Ren seized the proffered tray, and the pair started to pile on the containers. When they were done, it was the other Knight that was holding the loaded tray that you had given.

He took a step back as Commander Ren faced you. You dared not stare up into that mask, opting instead to look at his neck to show that he had your attention, as was proper. “I’m impressed that a mere trainee is the one to do what the First Order’s officers failed to.” His voice rumbled, modified a bit by the helmet he wore. The officers around you flinched in shame, the cleverly passive insult hitting them in full. Without another word, the two Knights of Ren exited the cafeteria.

You stood there with empty hands, staring at the ground and fighting off the urge to blush. A small compliment, yet coming from the individual that it did, it meant a lot. It was enough to help you ignore the looks of frustration and loathing that were aimed your way as those in the room recovered from the shock of Kylo Ren’s now-absent presence. The cafeteria workers, meanwhile, gave you appreciative looks. The trays were not where they could easily grab them, and they would have hated to have Kylo Ren’s temper spike for any reason.

.

.

Despite the minute amount of pleasure he had exhibited by saying such things, you found yourself practically sweating when you were called after lunch to report to the hanger where the Command Shuttle was located. You swore up a storm in your head, hoping General Hux would not be displeased that you were late to report back to him. The two of your superiors did not always see eye-to-eye on things. Captain Phasma, you heard, also had disagreements with the general when it came to training techniques. You supposed it was only natural when there was a triad to please that there would be times in which one would instead express disappointment.

You paused when you were at the entrance to the Command Shuttle. A few of the Knights were nearby, however you did not see the Commander. A presence at your back caused your hair to stand on end. Ah, you thought, there he was. You turned, straightening as best you could despite your fear. “Sir.”

“You used the bathroom before coming here,” he said. You opened your mouth to apologize, knowing it had meant a delay in completing his orders. A breathy sound emanated from his mask. You recognized it to be a noise of amusement. “You’re the one the general has taken an interest in.” You felt your cheeks heating up. The way he said it let you know he was aware you had peed your pants when General Hux had shot at you. “I want that recipe.”

“Ah? Oh! The, uhm… Sir, the muffin recipe?”

“Yes.”

You had _thought_ there was one less muffin than there was supposed to be in your container that morning. You nodded, glancing about as you realized you had neither a pen nor paper on you. Commander Ren lifted his hands, and you saw that he had both. You accepted them with slightly shaking hands. Then, moving so that you could write on a flat surface, you started to write. It was much different in many respects to when General Hux had ordered you to do the same. You had learned your lesson; no making excuses, no acts of insubordination no matter how small.

Finished, you walked back to the darkly robed man and handed him the recipe and pen. Kylo Ren accepted these things, placing them into a single hand before using his other to reach behind you. You blinked at hearing tape being removed. Your stomach sank; someone had affixed a note to your back, a mocking, derogatory term scrawled across it. Commander Ren made no comment regarding it; simply crumpled the note, dropped it to the ground, and walked past you to the shuttle. One of the other Knights approached him on the way, the two speaking to one another. The fact that he had even removed the note, a simple task that was very much beneath him in the grand scheme of things, touched you. You had already respected him before, seeing as how he was your superior. You found that level of respect growing. You fully realized at last what General Hux had been saying to you earlier in the day; _everything_ was taken into consideration. That did not necessarily have to be a negative thing.

.

.

“The Command Shuttle’s weaponry is being repaired,” General Hux said to you after an hour of you shadowing him. You looked his way, finding that he had lifted his gaze from the datapad in his hands to run his eyes along your face. “Commander Ren requires your presence in the kitchen. It seems you’ve made quite the impression on him.” There was, dare you say it, _amusement_ in the general’s voice.

It caused you to fear for your life as you were dismissed to report to the Knight. You found these sentiments completely unwarranted when you entered the kitchen. Kylo Ren was standing in front of a mixing bowl, a variety of ingredients in front of him. You had definitely _not_ even considered that he was the one that would be cooking the muffins. Apparently, however, he knew how to cook. Without turning to consider you, the man gestured with a hand toward the paper that was on the counter. You walked over to it. Yes, you noticed, it was the recipe you had written.

“Oh… Oh! The vanilla… Is that it, sir?” you asked, seeing that you had given a measurement for everything but that one ingredient.

“Yes.” He was stirring the mix by hand, which is something you often did when you made the muffins. Using a mixer was something more trouble than it was worth, save for if you were going to make a particularly large batch.

You shook your head, stating, “Normally I just add some and taste the batter. Uhm… May I, sir?” He repeated the same, single syllable as he had a moment before. You unscrewed the top, poured some of the vanilla into the mix, and set the container off to the side. He paused in his mixing as you furrowed your brow. If _you_ tasted the batter, he would hardly know what to look for when you were not around.

Commander Ren lifted his hands, drawing back his cowl. You shifted from one leg to the other as he then seized either side of his helmet. A sort of hiss as a latch was released. You kept your eyes on the ledge, every muscle in your body screaming that it was ready for you to run. The Knight dipped his index finger into the mix. He then lifted it, and you could hear him tasting the batter.

“Is this right?” he asked, his voice still very deep although a little different now that it was not altered by his helmet.

You started to lift your hand, paused, and then proceeded to dip one of your fingers into the batter. The taste of leather mingled with the flavor of the muffin mix, yet you were able to easily ignore the tang. Withdrawing your finger from your mouth with a soft pop, you nodded. “Yeah. Just a little different than how the muffin itself will taste because of the raw egg. Technically you could add more vanilla if you wanted, but it’s really up to you.”

His arm moved past you, hand wrapping around the bottle of vanilla, and he added just a pinch more. After stirring the batter again and screwing the cap on the bottle of vanilla, Kylo Ren dipped his finger once more into the mix. He tasted it then instructed you to do the same. You obeyed, nodding in appreciation. Adding more vanilla had been a good move. The batter tasted even better than it had a moment ago.

Commander Ren drew away from the mixing bowl. He grabbed out two muffin pans and some spray to prevent the muffins from sticking. “Uhm, sir?” you said, keeping your eyes on the metal so that you did not see his face. He paused, his finger on top of the head of the spray. “If you do a double batch in a single pan, the muffin tops are bigger, so… That’s how the ones I made are, sir.”

He put away the second pan before coating the remaining one with spray. The Master of the Knights of Ren filled the pan with the batter, slipping the muffin tin into the preheated oven. He turned to you once more, closing the distance between the two of you. His hand met your chin, not roughly. He tilted your head back, and you stiffened when you saw his face. He was…a lot younger than you had believed him to be. Not deformed in any way. Kylo Ren dropped his hand from your chin. You blinked as he moved, beginning to take the dirty dishes over to the sink. He had given you permission to see his face. You doubted many—any?—of the officers on Starkiller, in the First Order, had been granted such a privilege.

Swallowing, you began to assist your superior in clearing away the small mess that had been made in preparing the muffins. He moved away to allow you to rinse then wash the dishes. While you completed this task, Commander Ren took out the cooling rack on which the muffins could rest after they were taken out of the oven. He had chosen to use the muffin tin that held twelve muffins, and you wondered if he was intending to share with the Knights of Ren.

“Is that all, sir?” you asked after a few minutes elapsed. His eyes darted to you, and he told you to remain in the kitchen. “Yes, sir.”

“It’s not often one displays such promise so early in their career,” he said a number of seconds later. You glanced towards the toes of his boots. “Should you allow your guard to slip, you will be torn to pieces. Your own strength will be used against you.” You jerked your eyes up to his face, finding that he was watching you with a certain passiveness. In many ways, his words were reminding you of things said to you by General Hux during your training. “You would be wise to utilize all resources available to you.”

“Sir?” His eyes swept along your frame. He said and did nothing to indicate he was ignoring you. At the same time, Commander Ren did not outright urge you to continue. You decided to take your chances. “How do you break one’s hold? Ah, when they’re…” You seized one of your own wrists with the other hand, squeezing tightly and explaining the grip to him.

Rather than say a word, Kylo Ren stepped closer. You tensed when he drew behind you, his hands landing on you in a grip identical to the one General Hux had had you in the first time he had told you to break free. “Offensive.” That single word slipped from him. You knit your eyebrows tighter, consternation filling you. Then you dropped your eyes to the way he was holding your wrists. You quickly moved in a way not to escape in defense, but to seize him instead. His hands left you, and Kylo Ren moved away before you could complete the action. “The tops harden as they sit, or…?”

You looked towards the oven, at the muffins that were rising inside. “Yes, sir. They’re a little firm when you take them out of the oven, but will attain that crispiness after cooling for a few minutes. They taste even better warm, when the tops are extra crispy like that. Almost like a cookie, Sir.”

He nodded, not turning to face you as he said, “You’re dismissed.”

“Yes, sir… Uhm… Thank you, sir.” He started to turn his head, however did not completely look over at you. You ducked out of the kitchen. You would have to practice the move he had revealed to you. If you could break free of the general’s grasp… It was not only the prospect of him kissing you. You wanted to show those around you that you _deserved_ this. Who cared if they were too afraid to do what was necessary when it came to something as simple as handing Kylo Ren a tray? You paused in thought.

Being shot at by General Hux, having to face such stress and fear… You realized how well your training was going. You were not going to let anyone take that away from you, to allow their jealousies to keep you from advancing in your career.


	8. What's My Name?

What’s My Name?

On the third day of your break from your training sessions with General Hux, you shadowed Officer Idlens. She informed you, at the end of the workday, that you were to report to the general. You were unsure what to make of this, however left to meet with him once you were dismissed from your duties. The man motioned for you to follow him, and you found yourself walking out of the main building. You felt awkward; a number of the officers and stormtroopers looked your way as you passed. You had heard of others being tasked with caring for Millicent, the general’s cat, and so you hoped that they were under the impression you were about to be assigned this duty when General Hux led you into his personal quarters.

As soon as the door closed behind you, the man ordered you to remove your clothing. You hesitated for a breath then started to obey. You folded your coat, setting it aside along with your hat. Your uniform shirt came off next. This you folded as well, making a pile. You placed your undershirt then your pants there. You paused, setting your boots beside the pile a half second later. Your hands started to tremble when you slid off your underwear, your bra, your socks, and lastly your gloves.

You could feel General Hux’s hands in your hair for a moment. With a snap, he tugged your tie out of your hair and onto his wrist. His hands rounded you, touching near your neck as he placed a collar on your throat. The man then turned you so that you were facing him. His eyes wandered along your naked flesh before he placed a hand on your shoulder and pushed you down onto your knees. Taking a step back, he told you to place your hands on the ground. You obeyed, on all fours before him yet again. He petted the top of your head twice. Then, withdrawing his hand, General Hux walked over to the chair you had sat in during your first visit to his quarters.

From your position on the floor, you watched as he removed his boots. He loosened the collar of his shirt then took off his first layer of clothing. He sat in his undershirt and boxers. Resting against the back of the chair, he closed his eyes. A soft breath escaped him. You stayed perfectly quiet, your eyes wide as you observed these actions. “Come, (L/n).” The same tone as ever. You dropped your gaze to the floor, blushing and feeling awkward as you started to crawl to him. You could feel him watching you, could feel his hand touch the top of your head when you were within reach. He still had his gloves on, you realized. This fact caused you to gulp and shiver. “On my lap.”

You crawled up onto his lap. His hands seized either of your thighs, tugging so that you were kneeling, straddling him. He pressed his thumb to your bottom lip, cupping your face in one hand. You leaned into the touch. General Hux rubbed back and forth with his thumb, his eyes not leaving you. He was watching your every reaction. Seemingly satisfied, he said, “Meow for me.” Your lips parted, and for a moment no sound came from you. Your voice caught in the back of your throat then you managed to release a tentative _mew_. “I understand you learned your lesson well—to not refuse your superior something as trivial as a recipe.” You were unsure whether to meow in response or say ‘Yes, sir’, and so you remained silent. The hand on your face shifted, pressing into your hair. General Hux ran his fingers through your locks. “You have also seen fit to utilize the indoor range. Eighty.” You blinked, looking directly into his face. The scores from the previous day’s tests had not yet been released to you. “You may kiss me, (L/n).”

Without any further prompting, you eagerly captured his mouth with yours. Parting your lips, you felt his move. He closed his mouth over yours, immediately flicking his tongue out in a teasing manner, prodding it against your lips until you touched your tongue against his. You moaned, tilting your head so that the kiss grew deeper. General Hux pulled your head closer to his, thrusting his tongue in and out of your mouth, running it along the roof of your mouth, licking down to your chin, your neck, your breast. He sucked at your nipple, flicking the bud with his tongue before lightly pinching it between his teeth. You could feel a bulge pressing against your cunt, which was growing wetter the more he licked at you.

You ground against his hardening cock. General Hux hissed, bucking up while tugging your hips closer. “Nnn… Sir, can I—“ He cut you off with another kiss. When he started to kiss the top of your head, you nuzzled your face against his neck. The redhead stood, you in his arms, and turned around so that he could set your back against the cushion of the chair. He shoved your arms between the cushion and back of the chair, his voice husky as he told you to keep your hands there.

General Hux tugged his boxers down, allowing them to pool at his ankles as he seized your legs and wrapped them around his waist. He rubbed his cock between your folds, and you whimpered in want. You rolled your hips, your juices smearing on the underside of his shaft. He set the heel of his hand on your pubis, pushing down so that your movements were limited. Biting down on your bottom lip, you whined. “Restrain yourself, (L/n).” You choked back the noise that had started to rise in your throat. General Hux teased your clit with the head of his erection he pressed himself firmly against you. He reached forward, touching the side of your face with the tips of his fingers. “You have such an expressive face…” He traced your lips, touching them with all his fingers until he curled his digits so that only his fore- and middle fingers were against you. “You cannot let your fear show, (L/n). Do not show weakness to the enemy.”

You curled your hands into fists, gripping the inside of the cushion that was on the back of the chair. You tried to will away the emotions from your face, to put on a mask of indifference, and yet all you could do was part your lips and gasp as the tip of his cock hit your clit. General Hux smirked down at you. Your eyelids fluttered before you were able to watch him properly.

He ran the fingers down your chin, moving so that he could tease your nipple. “I am not your enemy, (L/n),” he reminded you, and you shuddered. He bucked his hips into yours, fucking your outer lips. “However, if you keep making noises like _that_ ,” he said as you released a strangled mewling, “Millicent will think you want to play with her.”

As if on cue, the cat jumped on the back of the chair, looking down at you as she released a sort of purr-meow mix. She leaned down, batting at your nose with her paw. General Hux placed one hand on your stomach, holding you in place as he reached and stroked the top of the cat’s head. He slowly but surely coaxed her to jump off the back of the chair. You could hear Millicent pattering away, meowing indignantly. The entire time this was occurring, the man did not stop thrusting against you. You bucked your hips further off the chair, pressing against the man’s back with your knees as you tried to pull him tighter against you.

General Hux unhooked your legs from his waist. He turned you onto your stomach, ensuring that your hands remained in the cushion as he maneuvered you onto your knees. He pushed down until you lowered your top half, your breasts against the chair and your ass in the air. You felt his cock prod your entrance. You huffed, mouth wide open as he pushed inside of you. You could feel yourself stretching around his thickness, could feel him shoving himself fully inside you. His leather gloves, his hands were on your hips for a moment before he raised one of them. You knew what to expect, and you found yourself aroused in anticipation of the smack. It was never too hard; he had plenty of control. He knew full well how to spank you in a way that you slickened around him.

He started to withdraw then snapped his hips forward. You gripped the cushion tightly as he began to move in and out of you, his hand descending on your ass. Smacking filled the air, drowned out by your moaning. You felt him caressing your cheeks, sliding a single finger—his middle finger—from your hip inwards. He trailed down, smearing your wetness onto the leather then drew that digit up and traced around your rim. A noise caught in your throat when he worked his finger into your ass. He had stopped smacking you in favor of reaching forward and grabbing your hair. He wrapped some of your locks around his hand, tugging though not too roughly.

You moaned in appreciation as you felt him begin to thrust his finger in and out of you in time with his cock. Your heavy breathing was filling the air now as you panted. He wormed a second finger into you. Withdrawing his cock until only the head remained, General Hux slammed back into you in a way that had you rocking forward. You heard a slam, the chair’s front legs returning to the ground after rising a fraction of an inch. You did not realize you were releasing loud noises, whines and mewls that sounded quite like the sounds you had made when he had told you to howl like a cat in heat, until you heard Millicent return your cries. Behind you, General Hux released a breathy noise that was almost like an amused laugh.

He pulled out of you with both his cock and fingers. You could hear something light dropping to the floor, and you nearly jumped at the feeling of his bare hands on your waist. He moved you off the chair, laying you in the middle of the floor and climbing between your legs. He rolled his hips into yours, thrusting back inside. He stared down into your face, watching your expression as he angled himself so that his lower body brushed against your clit as he thrust against your g-spot. You were a shuddering mess, releasing incoherent moans that were punctuated with:

“Nnn… General Hux! H-H-Huxxxxx, mmmm.” Each time you said his name, he jerked his hips harder, faster. You managed to get out the first part of his name, the _Huh_ , however the _ks_ of the _x_ caught in your throat as your orgasm crashed over you. You could not see straight, could not focus on anything but the pleasure coursing through you and him seeking his own release as he continued to move. He pulled out after a few seconds, jerking his cock as he ejaculated on your lower belly.

General Hux moved onto his knees, removing his undershirt and using the article of clothing to wipe his cum off you. You licked your lips, watching him. He set aside the shirt and ran his hand along the bruise on your side. It was fading at a decent pace, though the light yellow tint still showed. It hardly hurt at all, even when he pressed down. After several more moments of hesitation, you reached and touched the back of his hand with your fingers. He twisted his wrist so that his limb was atop yours. He seized your wrist, tugging you up and placing his mouth against your hand. He trailed kissed down to your wrist, which he nibbled, and then worked his way up your arm. His teeth met your flesh multiple times, the man leaving a rather dark hickey between your collarbone and breast.

“It was the first time in quite a while he didn’t destroy anything,” General Hux said. It took you several seconds to realize that he was referring to Commander Ren’s visit a few days before. “Should I worry that you readily gave him the recipe, or was it indeed due to the fact that you took my warning into consideration?”

“The, uh, second, sir,” you said, curling your toes as he nibbled your throat. “And… Well, sir, I was thinking he might kill me if I didn’t.” General Hux chuckled in a way that told you he believed it was likely that this may have occurred. He slipped two fingers inside of you, and you spread your legs a little wider to give him better access when he started to thrust them in and out of you. He reached behind himself, grabbing up something. You released a strangled noise when he trailed a feather-like cat toy up your inner thigh.

“Careful, (L/n), you’re practically howling again. Millicent has claws,” he said, shifting to catch said creature on his arm when she attempted to lunge for the feather. You had not even realized she had been sneaking nearer. She swatted at the feather, which General Hux moved from you to tap her nose. Throughout this, he did not stop fucking his fingers into you. You ground down against them, moaning and at the same time watching him play with the cat. He set the feather between your fingers. “Play with her.”

Blinking, you wiggled the feather back and forth on the ground. Millicent laid down, tapping her paw forward in an attempt to snatch the toy every few seconds. General Hux hooked your legs over his shoulders after withdrawing his fingers from you. These he replaced with his mouth. You moaned, rocking your hips up as his tongue teased your labia. He seized your hips, massaging your flesh. His fingers ghosted over you. You felt him placing light kisses all over you, his lips sealing over your clit. He sucked at you, your eyelids beginning to descend as pleasure built up within you. Millicent, however, had your eyes snapping back open when she decided to pounce at you. You released an _oooh!_ of light pain as she landed on your chest. Fortunately, she had not had her claws out. She released a whining meow at her master, whose face remained between your legs as he said:

“Pet my cat, (L/n).”

“Pet mine,” you said breathless, though you reached forward and stroked along Millicent’s back. General Hux’s breath hit your pussy. You realized what you had said to him. “Sir, I—gnn!” He used his finger to flick your clit. He resumed eating you out as you attempted to pet Millicent to keep the cat busy. She turned, laying on your chest and staring down at your face. You dropped both hands to the general’s hair, trying to pull him closer as you felt yourself growing nearer. The noise you released prompted the cat on top of you to _meow_ in return. “Ohhhh—ow, shit!”

That was one way to come down from your orgasm, you thought. Millicent kneaded your flesh, purring and digging her claws lightly into your skin. General Hux moved up your body, gently lifting his cat off of you so as not to startle the feline. She rubbed her head against his chin. He set her on the ground next to you. You were rubbing where her claws had dug in. Thankfully, you did not feel any blood.

“I have received a mission from Supreme Leader,” General Hux said as you sat up. His eyes slid away from Millicent in favor of watching your face. “According to your file, you have limited experience aboard a larger vessel. As part of your training, you will board the _Finalizer_ with me in two days’ time. We will return to Starkiller in under a month. I suggest you pack accordingly. It would be best if you showered and left before it is speculated that any of your successes in the future are due to you fucking your superiors.”

You felt a little awkward showering in his quarters, but did so quickly. You redressed in your uniform after drying your hair. Before you could open the front door, General Hux seized your upper arm. He leaned down and gave your lips a quick kiss. You released a startled noise when he then told you to hold out your hand; when you obeyed, he put into your possession a cat carrier, inside of which was Millicent. She howled, her meowing ignored by her master as he handed to you some of her belongings in a bag.

“I will finish the preparations for departure. Your paperwork seems to be in order, however expect a visit tomorrow for blood work. Keep Millicent with you in your quarters. I suggest you take some time to review proper protocol and safety regulations that are in place for while you are on the Star Destroyer.”

“Yes, sir.” He poked his finger through the front of cage, stroking his cat before pulling away. General Hux opened the front door, and you exited his quarters. When people saw you walking out of his quarters and towards yours, the cat in your possession, they thought nothing of it. A few even wished you luck with the task of caring for the feline. You smiled weakly, trying to walk regularly. You felt sore in a most wonderful way.

.

.

Two and a half days later you were aboard the _Finalizer_. Millicent was in the general’s quarters, whereas you were with Lieutenant Mitaka as the man went over procedures with you. You listened intently, trying to absorb all the information. Captain Phasma was onboard, and she passed by you while making rounds. You regarded her for a moment before returning your attention to Lieutenant Mitaka. When he was done, the man escorted you to your quarters.

Five days on the Star Destroyer and you had seen General Hux only in passing. He was busy seeing that the mission was successfully carried out, not that you knew the details. Then again, you did not have the clearance to be privy to such things. You shadowed a number of the officers onboard. Two petty officers were keen on improving your knowledge of things regarding the ship and how it was to work aboard the vessel. One of them, Petty Officer Orv, spoke with you on an almost daily basis.

You enjoyed his company; it was refreshing when compared with your nonexistent social life on Starkiller. Orv stood beside you in front of one of the many windows. You stared out the glass at the stars. It was a beautiful sight, and one you had not quite grown accustomed to seeing. You felt Orv’s eyes on you. Adjusting your gaze on the window, you were able to see his reflection. He was smiling at you. It was a kind sort of grin that had you lowering your eyes as you tried to ignore its existence.

“Petty Officer Orv.” You and he both jumped at the sound of the general’s voice. Your superior strode closer to the two of you, his attention on the man, who responded respectfully. “Report to your station. There has been an alteration in the plans.” Petty Officer Orv immediately excused himself from your side, heading away. When the man was no longer in earshot, General Hux turned his gaze onto you. “Ignoring a problem will _not_ make it go away, (L/n). It would be best to address your stance on the…perceived relationship between the two of you.”

“Sir…” You paused when a pair of stormtroopers marched past. They were followed by a few officers. General Hux watched you, waiting for you to speak. Knowing he was busy, you forced yourself to string together coherent thoughts. “What is… What is the relationship…” You shook your head. “Yes, sir.” You started to step back so that you could leave, however he said your name in a clipped tone. You looked up at him, and he ordered you to follow.

General Hux walked into an empty room. When you entered behind him, he pressed the button that closed the door. “If you are interested in Petty Officer Orv then by all means, speak up.”

“No, I…” You paused to take a breath. “Sir, I have no romantic or sexual interest in Petty Officer Orv. I am…”

“Don’t waste my time, (L/n).” You clenched your hands into fists at your side. Seeing the display of aggression, General Hux stepped closer. He backed you up against the door, the metal releasing a protesting _thwonk_ at the sudden impact. His voice was quiet when he spoke again. “Did it thrill you to be underneath me because I am your general?” You winced at his words, at the accusation. “Do you believe that I abused my position over you—did you feel pressured into committing those acts because I am your superior?”

“Sir, I—“

“You may consider yourself _relieved_ ,” he said with a sneer, practically spitting out the final word, “of such duties.” When he went to press the button to open the door, you made to grab onto his hand to stop him. General Hux seized your wrist, and you, remembering what Commander Ren had taught you, went to turn that hold into an offensive tactic. At the beginnings of the actions that would allow you to do so, however, your superior dropped enough to where he was able to throw you over his shoulder. You dangled down behind him. “Did you just attack your superior officer?” he asked levelly.

“Technically, sir.”

“Tell me, (L/n), why I should not throw you off this ship immediately.”

“Sir, I did not think any of those things about you. I… I was making sure that… It’s exclusive?”

“Are you an _idiot_ , (L/n)?” You felt like one with him asking as he did. General Hux released his hold on you, and you barely managed to catch yourself with your hands. You flipped onto the ground without hurting anything only to have a boot press into your back. “What reason would I have to allow another to touch you?” The boot shifted from off you. As it was set on the ground, you turned to look up at the general from your position on the floor. “What?”

“Can… May I…have those…uhm…duties back, sir?”

This time he lifted his other boot, setting it against your chest. “Lick.” You raised your hands to cup his ankle, shifting so that you were able to trail your tongue along his boot. After lapping at it three times, it was removed from your grip. “Ass in the air.” As you got onto all fours to do so, General Hux walked around you. You could hear him kneel behind you and the next second he was dragging your uniform bottoms down, your panties along with them.

He spit into his hand, and you winced a little when he started to work your ass. He slipped one then two fingers into your rear. The man started to scissor you, soon adding a third finger. You grit your teeth to keep from making a noise; if anyone heard you while they were walking by, they might enter to see what was going on. Behind you, the man released a light hum. He withdrew his fingers from you. You heard him stand, walk away from you, and open one of the cabinets in the room.

Remaining obedient, you kept still despite wanting to know what he was doing. You did not have to wait long to find out. There was the sound of something being unscrewed. General Hux knelt behind you again. His fingers, when they reentered you, were coated in something that made the experience more comfortable. You rested your forehead against your left hand, swearing under your breath. When he added a fourth finger, you were starting to shake all over. He was slow, though not painfully slow, in working you. Time was ticking by; you wondered how much time. Was anyone missing the general?

You were breathing loudly through your nose. His fingers withdrew again. He was coating them anew in the lubricant then easing them into you. A squeaking noise left you when his entire fist was in your ass.

 _Fuck, fuck, fuck…_ It was not necessarily painful, you thought, but not exactly pleasurable either.

“Touch yourself, (L/n),” General Hux said, stroking along your spine to help relax you. You sucked on your fingers then reached between your legs, slowly rubbing your clitoris. The hand left your spine, the fist thrusting inside of your ass as General Hux undid the front of his pants. “Know your limits.”

“Mmm…spit? More of that stuff?” You could hear him do so. He coated his cock with saliva then withdrew his hand from you. You heard him slicking up his cock further with the lubricant and then he was setting aside the container. Your mouth was open as he positioned the head of his erection at your ass. He pushed inside, holding your hips steady while you continued to massage your clit. A swear left the general followed by a groan of approval.

General Hux reached down with one hand, stroking your pussy then thrusting two fingers into your cunt. This time you could not keep down the noise, a moaned out gasp. He said nothing, not reprimanding you in the least. He started to move his hips, his fingers. “I’ve been wanting to fuck this ass for a while now, (L/n),” he growled. You had not believed you could become so wet so fast. You pressed back against him, grinding hard as he slid his cock deeper inside you. His fingers were working you fast, his thumb flicking against your clit while you used your fingers to drag your juices towards your sensitive nub.

“Mmm…it feels so good,” you panted, heat and pleasure coursing through you. “Pl…please spank me, sir.” His hand met your right ass cheek. You moaned, turning your head so that you could bite down on your wrist to muffle the sounds coming from you.

“You love being fucked by your general, don’t you, (L/n)?” You whimpered, nodding as best you could while keeping your limb in your mouth. He spanked you again. “I asked you a question.”

You released your wrist for a moment to say, “Yes, sir,” then clamped down again. He pounded hard into your ass, the leather of his glove on your clit so smooth, the seam of the finger providing a sort of ridge that only gave you further stimulation.

“Say it, (L/n).”

“I…I love being fucked by you, General Hux,” you moaned against your wrist, trying to keep from screaming.

“How many times have you thought about me when you’re touching yourself, (L/n)?” Your nipples were hardening as he spoke. It was so dirty, and yet he said it with such authority that you could not deny him an answer. You whimpered out a reply, and he slapped your rear then rubbed the tender flesh. He pinched your ass, slapped again, rubbed and pinched. “Where is your place?”

“B-beneath you, general.” His balls were noisily slapping against you as he picked up his pace. You knew he was close, and you weren’t far behind either.

“Beneath _me_ ,” he ground out, and you could tell from his voice that he was baring his teeth as he spoke with passion that you had observed during his many speeches. Your teeth dug harshly into your arm as you muffled your moans and screams when you came. General Hux thrust into you a few more times, his hips stuttering as he ejaculated. You felt his hot cum fill your ass, which only made you moan again. It felt sticky, disgusting—wonderful.

He rolled you onto your back after tucking himself back into his pants. You stared up at him, the man kneeling above you, his knees beside your hips. The man leaned down and placed a single kiss on your lips. Before you even had a chance to respond, he drew back and stood. You watched as he pulled off his gloves, holding them between two fingers. You pulled your bottoms back up, moved onto your hands and knees then attempted to stand. Only to collapse back to the ground.

“I intend on carrying you, (L/n), if you would be patient.” The redhead was tucking away his sullied gloves as he spoke. He had replaced what he had used for lubricant in one of the cabinents. This accomplished, he slipped his arms underneath you and lifted. You muttered out a soft _Sir?_. “Yes?”

“Could…could you say my name?” He looked down at you, and you averted your gaze.

“Are you asking for post-coital cuddling and bed-talk, (L/n)?” You remained silent, feeling suddenly stupid for saying such a thing. General Hux carried you out of the room into the hallway. The crew seemed to mistake your sweat-covered forehead and tiredness for an illness, as they acted as though you had something contagious they wanted to avoid. It did not seem to bother them that it was the general carrying you. He entered your quarters and tucked you into bed. You rolled onto your side, drawing your covers further over you, past your shoulders. General Hux leaned down, his breath on your ear. “(Y/n),” he whispered, and you could have sworn your heart fluttered. “You had best discourage Petty Officer Orv, or _I_ will.”

“Y-yes, sir.” Your cheeks felt hot. The way the man caressed the side of your face told you that General Hux appreciated your blush.


	9. Servicing Your Superior

Servicing Your Superior

You half-wished that you would have requested post-coital cuddling, you thought the following day after you explained to Petty Officer Orv that you would find another individual from whom you could learn details about the ship. He had frowned, not oblivious to the implications. You were aware of his interest in you, and you were rejecting him. He remained cordial enough. Perhaps solely because he was on duty. When you walked away from him, you found yourself feeling…lonely in a way. He had been the closest thing you had had to a friend. Granted, you had been oblivious to his sexual/romantic interests, however…

It was either guilt or a case of the flu that had you vomiting by that afternoon. You slunk back to bed when the physicians ordered you to do so. Curled up on your side, you heard your door open and close. A _thunk_ followed by a light meow. Millicent jumping onto your bed, the cat purring and rubbing against you. She snuggled against your side as you turned over. General Hux was placing a cup of broth on a tray that was set up next to your bed. A trashcan was nearby as well in case you got sick again.

“Lieutenant Mitaka sends his apologies,” your superior said, which helped you understand that said man was likely in the same position. The two of you were sharing the same bug, whatever it was.

“I don’t want to get you sick, sir,” you said, your voice a bit hoarse from throwing up earlier. He set a hand on your head, rubbing gently then drawing back. He gestured towards the soup, instructed you to eat at least a little, and then took his leave. Millicent remained against you, staring at you then stretching and laying her head down.

You picked up the cup of broth, took roughly five spoonfuls, and then replaced it on the tray. You curled up against the cat, drawing an arm around her. When you next woke up, General Hux was sitting in a chair across the room from you. He was wearing a white mask over his mouth to block out any germs or other infectious agents. His eyes were trained on the projections displayed on his data pad. Noticing that you were awake, he gestured towards a cup that was on your tray. He instructed you to drink. Aware that it contained electrolytes, you obeyed by taking a few sips.

“When you recover, you will be granted access to the simulators. Captain Phasma will have a few stormtrooper cadets who will run through some scenarios with you. They have not yet encountered a scenario in which an officer is present. It should assist in your training as well.”

“Yes, sir,” you said, snuggling against your pillow and watching the man. “Is… Is Lieutenant Mitaka doing better?”

“He is no longer vomiting. His case is worse than yours,” General Hux said, his gaze flicking up from his datapad to consider you. “You should be aware that Petty Officer Orv has seen it fit to inform a fellow officer that he is under the impression you are having inappropriate relations with a superior officer.” You felt cold, the hairs on your arm standing on end and goosebumps pimpling your flesh. “Apparently you and Lieutenant Mitaka are both ill at the same time due to such relations.”

“Lieu… What?” You and Lieutenant Mitaka? You hardly knew the guy, and he was your superior! You backtracked to that last portion. General Hux was your superior too. “Sir?”

“Captain Phasma has been made privy to our current…relations. Should there be any incident in which you are to be punished or put in for any sort of reward or promotion, she or another superior officer will handle it.” Always professional. You appreciated that he was seeing that such measures were taken ahead of time. It was likely noted in your file already. Which meant that if anyone tried to complain, their words would be quashed immediately. Proof that you were not receiving preferential treatment. “Despite this, I would prefer if you handle the situation…delicately.” He did not want the relationship publicized. In many ways, neither did you. You were already isolated from a number of your peers.

“I understand, sir.”

He visited you on occasion for the following three days while you recovered from the bout of illness. Millicent was a frequent guest, whose company you enjoyed just as much as her master’s. When you recovered, you reported to Captain Phasma. The woman had you enter the simulator with a set of five stormtrooper cadets. Once more were you thankful that you had had training sessions with General Hux wherein he had shot your way. You did not flinch when the stormtroopers around you shot, nor when the hologram Resistance members returned fire. You ducked behind a vehicle, keeping close to the ‘troopers. By the end of the simulation, you were glad to be an officer trainee and not a stormtrooper cadet.

Captain Phasma spoke with her cadets first then addressed you in private. “Your performance was adequate,” she said. You knew this to be high praise coming from a superior, especially coming from her. You nodded, feeling yourself clenching your jaw. “You may speak.”

“I was… I was wondering how I could improve, Captain.”

“Increase your accuracy to eighty-five. Work at better assessing your surroundings in a short time. Delays of any sort could result in mission failure.”

“Thank you, Captain Phasma.” This you said once a silence fell between the two of you for more than a minute. She did not react, at least not in a way that would allow you to see it with her wearing that reflective armor of hers. You considered yourself dismissed when your superior turned and headed away from you.

Later in the day, you reported to General Hux. He was looking at the results of the simulation you had taken part in when you entered the room. The man was seated at a desk. He ordered you to move closer. Closer. You felt your heart picking up pace in your chest when he pressed his foot against the desk and pushed so that the chair rolled backwards. The redhead gestured to under the desk, telling you to kneel under there. You tucked yourself underneath the desk, feeling a little crowded when he moved closer. His feet were on either side of you.

From your position, you could see the bulge in his pants. “Go on then, (L/n),” he said when you did nothing for several seconds. You eagerly reached for his pants, opening them and pulling his cock free. You licked the tip, moaning and taking him into your mouth. It was the first time he had allowed you to do so. You trailed your hand along his cock, thumb ghosting over the vein on the underside of his shaft. Bobbing your head, you used both hands to pleasure what you could not take in your mouth.

You trailed kisses along the entirety of his erection. Lapped at it, licking and swirling your tongue. You could hear his breathing alter. He dropped one hand from his datapad to run his fingers through your hair. Tugging you forward, he shifted his hips in a way to urge you to start sucking him again. You engulfed him with your mouth then froze when you heard the door open. The fingers in your hair twitched.

“Lieutenant,” General Hux said, his voice mostly level. You could hear the light hitch in it, and you did not know whether to continue or wait. He pet at your hair, pulling you forward so that his cock slipped towards your throat. “Petty Officer Orv has received his punishment, I am to assume.”

“Yes, general,” Mitaka said. “Sir, I—“

“I am aware you did nothing untoward to the trainee. I spoke with her at—ah—length.” Such control, you thought. He hardly faltered in his words as you worked his cock with both your hand and mouth. Precum smeared along your tongue, prompting you to swallow. The motion in your throat, his cock thrusting back towards it, caused his shaft to twitch. He grunted when he came, however he managed to play it off as though it were nothing more than a noise of thought. “She was quite insulted by the implications as well.” General Hux did not release your head until you swallowed his entire load. Then, free, you drew back and tried to quietly breathe. “Rest assured that it will not reflect badly on you.”

“Thank you, sir.” You could hear his footsteps moving in retreat. The door opened and closed.

General Hux pulled back, closing the front of his pants after tucking himself away. “Captain Phasma has agreed to include you in a number of simulations she will be running this week for her cadets. I agree with her that your accuracy could be improved. Your strategy as well. Panic won’t do.” His eyes swept over you as you climbed out from under his desk. Your cheeks heated up. All you could think about was how you had tried to bat away his blaster, reminded him of his cat. “Should you continue to show improvement, you will complete your training shortly after we return to Starkiller.”

You felt pride swell within you at the thought of becoming a full-fledged officer of the First Order. Your parents would be so proud of you when that finally occurred.

Two days later your good mood had soured and you were huffing. General Hux’s eyes traveled to your face, noting the scowl upon it. “Sir, a few of the officers have informed me that they believe I am of good breeding stock.” He grunted in response, placing a hand on your hip. The cool leather caused a shiver to run down your spine. Still, you continued. “I am here to serve, but I am not part of the First Order for _breeding_ purposes, sir.” A funny thing to say when the man above you had just thrust balls deep into your pliant opening.

“I assume they are referring to more than your looks, (L/n). The fact that you are top of your class, your ability to quickly learn things aboard this vessel even. It’s a compliment.” He drew his hips back then slammed back up into you. You whimpered, feeling his cock stretching you as he rolled himself teasingly within your depths. “So wet,” he murmured. Your mouth dropped open and you stared up at him. Those blue eyes were clouded with pure want. He bared his teeth, seizing your hips and driving himself inside of you again.

You wrapped your legs around him, arching your back off the bed and looking up at the ceiling with tears in your eyes as he hit your g-spot. He had entered your room, commanded you to strip, and currently you were wearing the collar and leash he had provided. The latter of the items was wrapped around his hand. He tugged until you shifted downwards on the bed so that your ass was hanging over the edge. The heels of your feet were planted against the mattress, your toes curling when he used his free hand to lift up the vibrator he had set on the bed next to you. He set it against your lips, and at his urging you wrapped your mouth around it and sucked.

General Hux removed it from your mouth, setting it at the entrance of your ass. He eased it inside you, flicking on the switch. You gasped loudly, trying to breathe. The man above you picked up the pace at which he was thrusting inside of you while at the same time he started to fuck you with the vibrator. Your poor mood was dwindling away.

“Sir… Sir… General, I…Mmm…” You were struggling to form a coherent thought as the man tugged on your leash. His teeth were at your throat, nipping, his tongue roaming along the captured flesh. You rocked forward, bucking your hips up into his when he started to pull out of you. His balls slapped against you, his hand faltering in its grip on the vibrator. You reached forward, placing your hands on his shoulders so that you could ride him. You felt yourself growing closer to release, and when he changed the angle at which the vibrator was being thrust, you shuddered and felt your walls clenching both him and it.

He removed the vibrator from you, shutting it off and setting it away. General Hux pulled out of you though he had not yet cum. He tugged on the leash so that you fell backwards onto the bed. His hand was firm against your shoulder as he turned you onto your stomach. He wound the leash tighter around his limb then held onto your upper back with it, while with his other hand, he parted your outer lips. He shoved his cock deep into you. His hips slammed forward over and over in a way that had you whimpering in a mixture of pain and pleasure. He withdrew from you, still thrusting so that his cock rubbed your oversensitive clit over and over. You sobbed aloud as the actions sent panic through you. Realigning himself, he returned to fucking you in full.

You had not been aware that he could last so long. He kept your outer lips apart with his fourth and index fingers, his middle finger starting to play with your nub. “If the First Order sees it fit that you mother a child, you will do so, (L/n),” he growled, rolling his hips so that you were further pleasured. Your legs were shaking. “Acknowledge!”

“Yes, sir!” you sobbed, his finger working faster, rubbing harder. He pulled out of your tightness for a final time, grinding hard against you as he ejaculated. His finger did not stop until you were crying through your second orgasm, which hit you hard. Your chest felt tight, and you were sweating profusely. General Hux rolled you onto your back so that he could look you in the face. “Sir… General, I… I would obey a direct order to… to, well, breed for the purpose of providing an heir for one of the…more adept officers. It’s just… Well, I don’t…” You paused to finish catching your breath. “I don’t want any officer at all believing they can speak to me that way simply because I am a successful female in their ranks.”

Assigned copulating, though not completely common, was not unheard of when it came to an officer of superior breeding wishing to produce an heir. One of your instructors before you had been stationed on Starkiller had fathered a child in such a manner. Yet, as you had said, the idea that any male could speak to you as though you were nothing more than a means to producing a child did not please you in the least. You were, first and foremost, an officer—almost, you reminded yourself. Your duties laid primarily with ensuring the success of any mission the First Order had you taking part in.

General Hux did not respond to your statement. He unbuckled the collar from your neck, his fingers touching along your throat to ensure that no bruising would show past your uniform. “Do you believe they aren’t thinking it—won’t be thinking it? Every female is assessed by her coworkers, (L/n). You have the disadvantage of being exceptional, of being even more in the public eye due to your success. You cannot control their carnal desires, (L/n), however if you show them that they are to respect you—“

“Sir, I don’t think—“ His tongue dipped into your mouth, his lips meeting yours. You closed your eyes, happily and willingly returning the kiss.

“Do you believe Captain Phasma did not receive similar treatment?” he asked when he pulled back. You paused in thought, staring up at General Hux. The redhead stood and began to redress. You watched him, saying nothing until you were bidding him a goodnight. He nodded curtly. “Be sure to rest, (L/n).” He could no doubt see directly into your racing mind.

The door was almost entirely closed when you stood. “Sir?” General Hux stepped back into your quarters, closing the door so that anyone passing by would not see your naked form. He faced you, hands behind his back as he assumed a completely professional posture. “When we… When we have sex the next time… Can I…call you… Can I not say ‘Sir’ or ‘General’?”

“You wish to refer to me as…Hux?” You lowered your eyes to the floor. “Am I to assume that you also would prefer my calling you by your first name? (L/n)… I will take it into consideration.” Judging by his tone, you doubted it would be agreed upon. You understood why this was; such an allowance would mean the depth of your relationship was beyond sex. It would be a level further of, given his position above you, inappropriate.

“General Hux?”

“Yes, (L/n).”

You looked down the length of your body. During foreplay he had left a number of hickeys on your inner thighs, on your belly, and on your breasts. “If…If I…curl up…like… If I curl up like a…cat…can I sleep with—“

“Yes.” When you dared to look up, you saw pleasure in his eyes. “Dress quickly if you wish to come with me to my quarters.” You moved to obey, knowing that you would be stripping out of whatever you put on in no time flat.


	10. Putting it on Repeat

Putting it on Repeat

You had curled up against the man, your legs tucked over his hip and your cheek pressed against his chest. As catlike as you could manage, you cuddled against the general. You wore your socks to keep your feet warm. Otherwise you were naked. He wrapped an arm around you rather possessively, and that was how you fell asleep. In the morning you stretched out then wandered off to use the bathroom. Returning, you found that General Hux was awake. He wore his pants, his torso bare. Your breath hitched at the sight of the crop in his gloved hands.

“Against my desk, (L/n),” he ordered. You walked to the piece of furniture and placed your palms flat against its surface. The crop trailed along your ass. He snapped it against you, and you bucked your hips into the hard surface in front of you. Tilting your head back, you closed your eyes and relished in the sensation of him trailing the leather against your bare ass some more. A light slap here. Three stinging smacks to your rear in quick succession. You were whimpering again, releasing a sort of keening whine as he ordered you to turn around.

You set your sore posterior against the edge of the desk, and immediately you felt the crop trailing along your leg. Petting down your thigh. Stroking you. Your eyes locked with his. He snapped his wrist up, stimulating your clit with the blow. He began to trail the leather down again, pausing when his communicator released a ring. Your chest was heaving, your body filled with want, as General Hux shifted away from you. He touched the button on the communicator, answering it.

You found yourself falling forward at the news, caught by General Hux placing his forearm against your chest to keep you from collapsing fully. A number of houses had caught fire, your parents’ among them. Your mother and father, though alive, had attained a number of severe burns and were being treated. The cause of the fire was of yet unknown; the superiors of all trainees and officers whose families were involved were being informed. Only when the call was ended did the man turn to you. You were feeling rather dizzy. Clutching the edge of the desk behind you, you swayed. If not for the arm that was still against you, you would have fallen to your knees.

“Control yourself, (L/n).” You forced yourself the breathe, shifting away from the desk and your superior. You crouched on the ground long enough to gather your clothes. General Hux said nothing as you dressed. You knew each and every one of your movements were robotic. Your mind was in shock. You would not be permitted to visit your family despite the current situation. No one would be allowed to do so. Even in many cases of death, one could not leave their post to visit for the funeral.

You did not want your general to see you in such a vulnerable state; you were short of sobbing pathetically. It was a mercy that he made no move to stop you from leaving his quarters. Your parents were alive, you attempted to console yourself. There was no reason to cry, not really. Yet there was that fear, that relief. When you arrived at your own quarters, you collapsed in the middle of the floor on your knees and curled up into a ball. Your entire form shook as you at last allowed yourself to sob.

When evening rolled around, you looked up from your position on your bed. Captain Phasma and General Hux both entered your quarters. You dropped your gaze. Your stomach was churning, and you knew what was happening. You had abandoned your duties, remaining in your room the entire day rather than perform what few tasks had been given to you. You stood, doing what you could to appear presentable before your two superiors. Captain Phasma stepped forward.

“You will report for psych evaluation at 0530 tomorrow. All extracurricular activities are suspended. Ten hours worth of services.” Trash or cafeteria duty, you knew this to mean. You responded respectfully, and the chrome armored female left.

“Are you trying to end your career prematurely?”

“Sir—“

“Hold your tongue, (L/n)!” You closed your mouth, flinching at his harsh tone. “Had you been an officer on duty, had we been attacked while you were away from station _sulking_ —do you understand the implications? The consequences? You’ve gotten off lightly. Perhaps you should feel relieved that _I_ was not the one handling your punishment. Should this ever occur again, you may consider yourself relieved _permanently_ of all duties. Is this clear, (L/n)?”

“…yes, sir,” you said softly, in a low whisper.

“I did not hear you,” he snapped.

“Yes, sir!” You winced at the sound of your voice cracking. Your face was hot in shame, frustration, and hurt. Your superior officer left without a word further.

The next time you saw General Hux was close to two days later. In that time you had completed the psych evaluation and two hours of services in the cafeteria. Your superior was on the bridge of the _Finalizer_ when you were set to report to him. He was staring out the glass when you arrived. Some of the officers looked up at you before returning their attention to their work. The redhead turned his back to the window so that he could stare at you.

“You are to repeat two weeks of your basic training. Should your grades be satisfactory, you will return to Starkiller. I expect to see an improvement in your self-control.” General Hux turned his head, looking at one of the officers standing nearby. “You may escort her now.”

You could hardly believe this was occurring, and yet you were led to your quarters long enough to retrieve your items before being taken to the ship that would return you to basic training. What had you done or said, you wondered, during your psych evaluation to warrant such a punishment?

.

.

Bookwork, running diagnostics, looking over statistics… These things came easily to you. You would spend hours of your day in class with newer recruits. Some of the trainees recognized you; they were close to graduating. At this rate, you thought miserably, they would become officers before you did. Had the hiccup not occurred, it would have only been three more days until you finished your training on Starkiller and become an officer. You glanced up towards the clock. Two weeks had both flown by and dragged on. Your instructors wished for you to return to Starkiller, where you would undergo a minimum of three weeks more of training.

Two newly appointment petty officers would be boarding the ship with you. Starkiller would be their first assignment, and they were excitedly discussing it as the three of you made your way to the vessel. You, meanwhile, felt nervous. You did not know how to feel about the prospects of seeing General Hux again.

When the three of you arrived, you were led to meet with said man. The officer escorting the three of you informed you of where your quarters were located, the man giving the basic outline of the base. You remembered, for the most part, where everything was. Your quarters were different than your old one. The three of you kept your coats on, the officer leading the two petty officers and you towards a place that you found to be rather familiar. The area in which General Hux had trained you.

He stood with his arms crossed behind his back, his posture identical to what you remembered. His eyes swept over the three of you, not lingering on any one for longer than the others. The officer that had escorted you left immediately; he no doubt had other duties to attend to. You felt your pulse quicken. It was cold; you had not been in such a climate since you had left Starkiller more than three weeks before. At the very least, you thought, it was currently not snowing.

The two petty officers beside you were shivering already, although they did what they could to hide this fact. “March in place. Keep moving unless you wish for a case of hypothermia.” His voice was commanding, so certain. He walked along the line of the three of you. You and the petty officers did as he had demanded; your two companions were more enthusiastic, more unused to the cold temperature. “I expect orders to be obeyed without question.” His eyes swept to the first petty officer, who was standing to your left. “Dance like a Twi’lek whore.” Blushing madly, no doubt surprised that he was being told to do such a thing, the man obeyed. When General Hux held up a hand, he stopped. The redhead turned towards the other man, who was on your right. “Titter like a little girl.” He did so, and your superior turned to you at last. “Howl for me like a cat in heat.”

In some ways you should have expected it. Still, the thought of doing so in front of others had you feeling very ashamed of yourself. You breathed through your nose then obeyed, releasing a noise exactly like the one he had demanded of you.

“Louder,” General Hux hissed out. The two petty officers had glanced your way when you had released the noise. You grit your teeth, relaxing your jaw long enough to do what was required of you. “All three of you: drop.” You were in a row on the ground. “Count.” Those boots crossed your line of vision multiple times as he rounded the three of you. When the two petty officers had completed fifteen pushups, General Hux informed them that they were to report inside. This, you were aware, was to prevent them from having an experience similar to the ones you had gone through. You, on the other hand, continued doing pushups.

When you completed enough that he was content, your superior instructed you to rise. You stood at attention in front of him. General Hux returned to the main building, while you left towards one of the other buildings, where you were to speak with Officer Idlens. For nine days you reported to her, shadowing her and completing smaller tasks. Outdoors you aided in working through exercises with the two petty officers to help them become acclimated.

Despite your part in helping them train, you had not expected to take part in their overnight excursion. At least, you thought as you arrived at the wooded area, the shelters they had made were nothing to sneeze at. The fact that General Hux was present made you feel sick to your stomach. You could not help but remember the way your own overnight in the shelter you had built had gone. The arousal. The two of you had hardly seen one another through your entire stay here. Had not spoken, save for when you were greeting him respectfully.

The two worked to make a fire, in front of which you and General Hux stood. You watched the pair attempting to gather food and other necessary items. You wondered for a moment if you had looked so lost and desperate when it had been you searching for those things. As night grew later and the four of you had eaten, General Hux instructed the two petty officers to get some sleep. It was getting colder by the second. You looked over your shoulder towards the shelter into which the pair had disappeared. From what you could see, they were already getting closer to one another. Trying to share body heat.

After a few more minutes elapsed, your superior gestured towards the other shelter. You entered it without a word. Lying on your side, you pulled your coat up over yourself like a blanket. You rubbed your hands along your body, careful to keep quiet as you did so. Eventually the general entered the shelter as well. He laid next to you, though your bodies did not touch.

The temperature continued to fall. You tried to simply curl in upon yourself to keep warm. Swearing in your head, you found that this was not enough. You swallowed the saliva that had gathered in your mouth, turning onto your side so that you were facing your superior. His breathing was level. Despite this, you could not tell if he was conscious or asleep. You shifted your hips closer to him, your torso following. Even closer, feeling heat radiating from his body. Your mind wandered briefly to the two petty officers in the shelter beside yours. No doubt they were already wrapped around one another.

 _It’s not sexual,_ you reminded yourself. _It’s okay._

After your experience aboard the _Finalizer_ , you had told yourself that you would not engage in such behaviors again. There was submitting to him as your general, and there was submitting to him sexually. In a way, this was neither of those, you told yourself. This was survival. You needed to keep warm. With this thought in mind, you finished closing the distance between your body and his. You slipped his arm around you, grabbing at the front of his shirt and snuggling close.

“Sit by the fire, (L/n).” General Hux set his hand atop yours, removing it from himself. He shifted away from you. It stung, and yet you slipped out of the shelter and moved to the fire, which had shrunk a bit. You fed it a few sticks then sat in front of it. Its heat started to immediately warm you. You heard movement behind you, and the redhead stood to your right in front of the flames. “If you intend to treat me as nothing more than your general then you should be aware of boundaries, (L/n).”

“Yes, sir,” you said, watching the flickering flames. “It was just…intense… sir.” You added the title as an afterthought.

“I am not faulting you, (L/n). I have told you always to know your limits.” You glanced his way to find that he was staring straight ahead at the surrounding trees. He was so detached. So professional. You felt…angry.

Standing, you began to march away. You heard the general say your name calmly. Then sternly. You ignored him. Insubordination, you knew, but you were too frustrated. Your heart was beating your ears. You felt like crying because you felt like attempting to punch the man. He acted as though it had been nothing! All that humiliation—and yes, it had turned you on. But you had believed that it had been a little more than sex for him. A little more than something he could throw away so easily. Having you howl like a cat in heat in front of the two petty officers had made you think that, perhaps, he was punishing you for your indifference towards him.

You jumped, catching one of the lower hanging branches with both hands. As you started to hoist yourself up, a pair of hands gripped your hips. He tugged at you. You grit your teeth, wrapping one arm around the branch to prevent him from pulling you back down. General Hux growled out your name. You narrowed your eyes but did not look at him. In another try at gaining altitude, you started to press yourself upwards. His hands tugged down, and you felt the cold air hit your bare ass. Swearing, you did not have time to brace yourself before the first blow landed. His entire palm hit your ass. You hissed, scrunching your face. The familiarity of the harsh attention to your rear had your body reacting immediately. You were feeling warmer than a few seconds previous.

He was fumbling with the front of his pants with one hand, the other holding onto you so that you could not move away from him. General Hux tugged more harshly, and you almost lost your grip completely. You held on with both hands, your arms above your head as your superior wrapped your legs around his waist and thrust his cock up inside of you. Your eyes widened at how good it felt. “Pull-ups. Count. Now.”

You bit down on your bottom lip at the order, yet started to move to obey. You lifted yourself. A smack on your ass, you shuddering. Lowering yourself, feeling his cock re-entering you. He snapped his hips forward, his eyes on you. You avoided looking at his face as you rose yourself again, all the while counting aloud. Two smacks on your rear, keeping count along with you. This time when you lowered, he rolled his hips so that the head of his erection brushed your clit before he was inside of you again. Three slaps to your ass. You moaned, eagerly lowering yourself back onto his cock.

“Mmm…”

“Count!”

“Th-three, sir,” you groaned, feeling him stretching you. Lifting, that hand against you. Your ass was going to be so sore tomorrow. Throwing your head back, you slammed yourself onto him. His breath hitched in your ear. “Four, General,” you shot, grinding hard into him. His hands held your ass in place, the man rolling his hips, thrusting forward a few times before he demanded that you resume. “Five, General,” you said breathlessly. “How many more, sir?”

“Keep. Going,”

“Ooohh… Six.” You were putting on a show for him, relishing in the feel of him inside of you. You had forgotten how great he felt. How much him ordering you around turned you on. Him spanking you made you so slick around him. The cold air threatened to use that wetness against you, and yet his hot cock moving in and out of you kept you plenty warm. “S-seven, sir.” He slapped your other cheek this time, groping it a second later as you lowered yourself. “Eight, General.”

“Hold,” he growled out the next time. You grit your teeth at the sensation of him shoving two fingers into your ass. He inserted a third, scissoring you. A fourth. Your arms were shaking. General Hux removed those fingers, his hands on either side of your ass, spreading apart your cheeks, as he said: “Continue.” As you lowered yourself, he guided you onto his cock. You closed your eyes as he entered your ass. “Faster now, (L/n).”

You obeyed, rising—he did not smack your ass this time, keeping his hands firmly on your rear so that he could guide you, as you dropped, back onto him. You pulled yourself up immediately, not pausing. He shifted out from underneath you when you reached twenty. Told you to drop to the ground. General Hux pinned you against the tree that you had attempted to climb. The bark dug into your chest. Behind you, he repositioned himself, thrusting into you and starting to fuck you fast. His balls were slapping your cheeks noisily, his hands on the trunk of the tree above your head. You pressed your ass more tightly against him, starting to meet his thrusts.

General Hux lowered one of the hands from the tree, trailing it down your spine before he resumed spanking you. “Nnn… General,” you moaned loudly, finding yourself mewling.

“I should be punishing you, (L/n),” the redhead said huskily. He groaned loudly as he came inside of you. You started to move your hand down to pleasure yourself, feeling your release close. General Hux caught your wrist up in one of his hands. “No. You are not to be rewarded for being insubordinate.” You furrowed your brow. He wasn’t serious, was he? “Fix your clothing.” Feeling close to tears, you obeyed him. You were aching between your legs, your body wanting release. Your panties were uncomfortable against you. “Return to the fire before you catch a cold.”

He was two steps behind you the entire way. You sat down in front of the fire and tried to will away your arousal. Eventually the two of you returned to the interior of the shelter, and you passed out. You awoke in the middle of the night, tried to shift up into a sitting position, and swore at the pain that radiated through you. You dropped back onto your back. Covering your face with your hands, you attempted to gather your bearings.

“Do _not_ pee your pants next to me, (L/n).” Ah, so Sir General was awake, you thought. You peeked through your fingers at him in a glare.

“I need help, sir.”

“You need help peeing, (L/n)?”

You huffed at his sarcasm. “No, sir. I’ll do it myself.” You rolled onto your hands and knees. You could feel his eyes on you as you started to literally crawl out of the shelter. Through the snow. He scooped you up, carrying you past the first two lines of trees. You steadied yourself against the trunk of another tree while you pulled down your pants. You wished General Hux would go away while you urinated, yet found yourself thankful that he had not yet left when you nearly collapsed on your ass. You braced yourself with both hands on the trunk behind you. Your superior reached between your legs, holding your pants and underwear out of the way. His face was turned away while you peed. You wished you could disappear when you were done.

The two of you returned to the shelter once more, him carrying you and practically chucking you back inside. You curled up, releasing an indignant huff. “If I did not know any better, I would say it was Millicent next to me,” General Hux said in response to the noise.

_Great. I’m reminding him of his cat again._

The bitterness in your thoughts melted away when the man turned over, spooning you. “Sir?”

“When we’re having angry sex, (L/n), try to tone down your sarcasm.” His spankings had increased in intensity when you had started your snarkiness. You muttered out a _Yes, sir_. “If you still cannot walk by morning, we shall have to say that you slipped and landed on something.”

At least he was willing to carry you, though that had never seemed to be an issue.

“I also do not want to remind you again that ignoring your problems will not make them disappear.”

“I was just…not emotionally prepared for what happened, Sir. And… And what I was… With you, I…felt overwhelmed.”

“Which is why you were returned to basic training to cover such things. The control over your facial features has improved.” You half turned, looking at him in the darkness. “I am not allowing personal sentiment to interfere with my training you, (L/n).”

“I…appreciate it, sir.”

“You will never ignore me like that again.” You winced, thinking back to the stern voice he had used to call your name. You could not recall him having done so any other time. You murmured a _Sorry, sir. Yes, sir._ His tongue trailed along your jawline, delving into your mouth. You moaned, sucking on the organ within your orifice. “Remember your place, (L/n).”

Panting, his tongue entering your mouth again, you rolled onto your back. “Beneath you, sir,” you uttered out, feeling him undoing your pants and his. He was once more inside of you, thrusting immediately and rubbing your clit with his thumb.

“Next time, I won’t let you cum all night, (L/n).”

“There won’t be a next time, sir,” you mewled. He smirked down at you, your answer to his liking.


	11. Working Through It

Working Through It

In the morning, you were able to get to your feet, albeit slowly. You did not walk so much as limp. The two petty officers glanced your way with sympathetic looks. They believed the story that you had fallen and injured your rear when you were going out to use the bathroom. One even asked if you feared you had frostbite, to which you responded that you did not believe so. General Hux led the three of you back towards the main portion of the base. You were all given some time to ready yourselves for the workday. The petty officers were to report to their respective duty stations for the day, while the redhead informed you that he wished to see you after you were ready.

When again you reported to your superior, he had you follow him to one of the indoor firing ranges. The area was completely empty, and he informed you that it would remain as such while you and he occupied the room. General Hux grabbed a chair, setting it in a position to where he had a clear view of all targets that were in the room, those moving and otherwise. He pulled out his datapad, touched certain portions, and proceeded to begin working. With an even tone he instructed you to grab a blaster.

After selecting one, you made sure that it was fully functional then approached General Hux. Without looking up from his datapad, the man dropped a hand to his lap. He undid the front of his pants. You blushed as you watched him withdraw himself and begin stroking his cock until it hardened. Your superior muttered out an order for you to remove your bottoms, and you awkwardly obeyed. Your eyes darted about the room, and you suddenly understood why it was that no one else was present. You moved onto his lap when he told you to do so. Releasing a shaky breath as he entered you, you blinked while the man set one hand on your thigh and the other hand he still used to hold the datapad, which was just in front of you. General Hux stared over your shoulder at the displayed information. He occasionally lifted his hand from your thigh to swipe to a new screen on his datapad.

“It is your job to protect your superior officer, (L/n),” he said, half distracted by whatever task he was currently completing. “No matter the distractions.”

You were swearing up a storm of pleasure in your head as you felt him shift his knee, bouncing his foot so that you were rocking against him. Shakily, you lifted the blaster and readied yourself. General Hux hit a new icon on his datapad, and all around you the targets sprang to life. You fired at the closest target, knocking it down. It took you two attempts to hit the next target. Your hips were moving against General Hux’s as the man glanced up to see how you were faring. He returned his gaze to the datapad. Always working, you thought as he instructed you to ride him harder while you shot.

The movements caused by you fucking yourself on his length lowered your success rate. In a way, it made further sense why he was having you do this. Though it was unconventional, providing a scenario in which you were experiencing any sort of distractions or roughness would only help you to improve. You decided to adjust to the change in pace, spreading your legs further so that you could steady yourself a bit better. He rewarded you with a calm statement of _clever_ then swiped to yet another new screen on his datapad.

Having shot down another two of the moving targets and three of the stationary ones, you did not hesitate when the man underneath you demanded you to rise from his lap. You did not stop shooting once as he turned the chair around and pressed you so that you were kneeling on it. Your accuracy altered, worsening momentarily, when General Hux thrust his cock into you from his position behind you. You readjusted your grip on the blaster, nicking one of the targets then managing to shoot it down as your superior set a pace he found to his liking. The datapad was set along your back, held in place by one of his hands as his other limb was used to keep you steady on the chair, which was rocking precariously due to the movements of both your hips and his. You met his thrusts, panting and trying to keep your vision from blurring as pleasure threatened to overwhelm you.

“Mmm….” You shuddered whilst moaning, firing off another round. It was a miss. Your blaster slipped in your grasp, almost falling to the floor, as your orgasm washed over you. Behind you, the man did not stop in his thrusting, though he slowed his pace as you readjusted your grip on the weapon. “S-sorry, sir,” you panted out. He grunted in response, and the hand that was keeping you steady shifted long enough for him to swipe to the next portion on the report he was reading. He stroked your head then resumed holding you. It was his way, you knew, of accepting your mistake as acceptable for the time being. No doubt he would expect improvement the next time—you gasped at the thought of there being another time.

“You are on birth control, correct?” he asked in that same bored tone. You nodded as best you could without giving up any advantage you had in shooting the targets. In case he was not watching you, taking into consideration the fact that he was reading reports, you also whispered out a _Yes, sir_. General Hux sighed, his hips stuttering a moment against you as you felt him cumming inside of you. You bit down on your lower lip at the feel of it; he had always ensured he pulled out before, or came in your ass or mouth. Or, you recalled, on your face. “Captain Phasma will be arriving in four days’ time. She will be testing you to see if you are ready for the position we have in mind for you.”

You dared not ask what position that was; knowing it was not your place to be informed unless he saw it fit. The datapad was lifted from off your back, and General Hux pulled out of you. As he readjusted himself, the targets fell dead, which indicated the training session was completed. You slipped off the chair, set down the blaster, and redressed.

“Today you will sit in on a briefing. Grab something quick from the cafeteria; you hardly ate at breakfast.” His eyes swept over you as you tried to stretch the muscles in your legs to keep them from tensing. Your limp had lessened a little the more you moved, however it was still present. General Hux closed the distance between the two of you. His datapad was on the chair, both his hands reaching behind you and grabbing hold of your ass. He kneaded your flesh, which initially hurt as your sore muscles were tended to. The more he massaged you, however, the more you were able to feel the relief sweeping through. You closed your eyes, enjoying the sensation while it lasted. Only a few minutes passed before he broke contact. He lifted his datapad, instructed you to replace your blaster, and waited for you to do so before leaving. You followed along after him, ever obedient.

At the cafeteria, you grabbed a small protein bar to eat along with some water. You ate on your way to the room in which you would be an audience member of the briefing. It would not be the first time you had been briefed. You learned when the briefing started, however, that this would be one of the few that held your attention. It was interesting to learn more about Starkiller base. There was some information revealed that you had not believed you were allowed to know; you had no clearance, and yet General Hux did not bat an eyelash when you glanced his way when the information was brought up. It only made you wonder more what position you were intended to fill. Sure, you reasoned, you were top in your class. Being trained by the general himself. What sort of position were they grooming you for? Because, you realized in that moment, you _were_ being groomed.

Though your thoughts were a bit distracting, you paid careful attention to all the information that was given in the briefing. You made a number of mental notes as well. When the briefing ended, you remained sitting until General Hux instructed you to stand. The two of you walked down one of the many corridors of Starkiller as the man addressed you.

“A number of the officers you shadowed expressed their surprise with how easily you took to certain tasks. You adapted well to new systems and programs. I took the liberty of checking the log to see what you do in your free time. Predominately more studying. You have a certain…initiative when it comes to improving yourself. Some of your peers have referred to you as a workaholic.” You lowered your eyes at the term. “I, however, believe your dedication to the First Order is exceptionally…pleasing.” This last word he spoke as he stopped and turned. You halted to prevent yourself from crashing into him. You looked up into his face, and found that those icy blue eyes were staring down at you. His stare was not cold as it usually was. Not quite warm, you reasoned. Pride. Your dedication to the First Order made him proud, which caused you to swallow hard and fight off the feelings of satisfaction and embarrassment roiling through you. You had to keep your expression neutral, as you had trained so hard to do after his many comments on your expressiveness. Stay professional, you reminded yourself.

“Sir?” you said in the best level tone you could muster.

“You are being given the rest of the day off for the purpose of studying. I have sent a list to you regarding which subjects you should improve upon. A number of the reading materials are in my private quarters.” He reached into his pocket, handing you a small cylinder that you knew would grant you access into his quarters. “Keep things in order while you’re there.”

“Yes, sir,” you said, watching as he turned away and continued down the hallway. You, meanwhile, began to move back the way you had come from. You were relatively familiar with his quarters, having been inside before. When you entered, you recalled exactly how orderly he kept things. You removed your boots, setting them together neatly in a place by the door so that they were out of the way. You found that Millicent was curled up on the chair in the living room area. “Hey, kitty.”

After stroking the feline’s head, you moved over to the bookshelf. You had read over the list that had been sent your way by your superior, and so you took out the various materials he intended you to study. You then sat down on the small couch, pulling the first source into your lap. Minutes and hours ticked by. You heard General Hux enter his quarters. Millicent jumped down from her position at your side to greet her master. Your attention remained on the text you were reading. The history of the Empire was a lot more expansive than you had previously believed, especially when one delved further into the political aspects of each individual that had held any position of importance. You greatly appreciated the history lesson, especially given how it correlated with the current hierarchy of the First Order. Wilhuff Tarkin was a rather interesting figure himself. You finished reading about him, the way he had used the first Death Star to destroy Alderaan, and then set aside the text at last. General Hux was watching you from where he was standing.

“Sir,” you said in greeting.

“Did you remember to eat lunch?” he asked in a drawl. You blushed upon realizing that, though you had taken breaks here and there to use the bathroom, you had not paused in your studying to do anything else. “I will have food brought here so that you can finish.” He gestured towards the book, in which you had placed a folded sheet of paper to keep your place. “There are several reports I need to look over anyhow.”

In little to no time, he was sitting on one side of the couch while you occupied the other. You were curled up, your knees drawn towards your chest and your feet against the cushion. General Hux, having removed part of his uniform, was seated slightly more formally. It had always been rumored that your superior did not get a lot of sleep; many stated that he was a workaholic, something you had apparently been accused of being. Perhaps that was one reason the two of you were able to enjoy one another in silence as you each completed your own tasks.

A service droid brought in the food that had been ordered. This was placed on the table that was before the couch. You glanced at the food, however did not grab anything as you flipped to the next page. General Hux absently lifted a small piece of one of the sides, taking a bit as he scowled at something or another in the report he was looking over. Millicent rubbed up against his legs then hopped onto the couch between the two of you. She kneaded the cushion before at last curling up. You could hear her purring loudly as you closed the text and seized one of the slices of the panini that had been ordered for you. As you ate, you worked through the multitude of information that you had acquired over the course of the day.

General Hux eventually set aside his datapad in favor of grabbing some of his food as well. He finished eating before you did, though not all of his food was consumed. The leftovers he placed into a container, which he put away for later. You helped to clear away any trash. Your superior put a hand on your hip, steering you back towards the couch when you were done with this. He set his datapad in your hands, instructing you to read the report to him. Furrowing your brow in consternation as to why he would require you to do such a thing, you looked down at the displayed report and began to read.

Your voice caught in your throat when the man got down on his knees in front of you and pulled off your bottoms, pants and underwear alike. He spread your legs and buried his face between your thighs, mouthing you immediately. You moaned. The redheaded man slipped his arms underneath your thighs, tugging so that you were leaning, which provided him easier access to your cunt. His breath hot against you, he ordered you to resume reading. You did so as best you could. His tongue was swiping along you, teasing your labia. Swirling at your entrance, and flicking your clit. He groaned as he engulfed you again, clearly enjoying himself.

You had to hold the datapad higher as you tilted your head back in pleasure. You were starting to rock your hips, grinding against his face. Your voice came out in puffs of air at times. General Hux thrust his tongue into your depths, wiggling the organ around inside of you in a way that had your toes curling and tears forming in the corners of your eyes. You were so slick on his tongue, and you could hear him slurping up your juices greedily. He hooked your legs over his shoulders, trailing fingers along your hip then reaching inwards and teasing your clitoris with three fingers as he fucked you with his tongue.

Before you could cum, you came to the end of the report. General Hux stood, and you whimpered at the loss of contact. He seized his datapad from you, setting it off to the side the next second. The man seized you and threw you to the ground. You landed on your back, quickly bringing your legs towards yourself as he dropped to his knees in front of you. He grabbed hold of your ankles, tugging and setting your feet flat against his thighs. You stared between your legs at his cock, which was straining against his pants. That bulge made you lick your lips in anticipation.

“S-sir,” you managed to say, however were cut off immediately with a sharp:

“General!”

“General,” you corrected yourself, watching him as he placed a hand against himself, rubbing his erection through his uniform pants. “Can… Will you please fuck me, general?”

He dragged down his zipper, leaving his pants buttoned as he withdrew his cock through that provided hole. It was an erotic sight, watching as he pumped himself. He was thick, and you could only remember how great it felt when he was inside of you, stretching you with that thickness. You felt yourself growing wetter, all the more aroused. You wanted to cum so badly. “Fuck yourself, (L/n).” You obeyed the order without question, dropping a hand between your legs and thrusting three fingers into your wet entrance. You were still wearing your gloves, and so you easily imagined it was him touching you, finger-fucking you. You rode the digits, jerking your thumb over your clit. “Stop.” You had to grit your teeth to keep from crying out as you did what you were told. “Take off your clothes and get on your hands and knees.” You pulled off your shirt, undershirt, and bra. Upon his word, you kept on the gloves and your socks. You moved onto your hands and knees then, facing away from him.

General Hux’s body soon enveloped yours. His arms were touching yours, his legs on either side of yours as he assumed a similar position as you. He rocked his hips, his cock teasing your outer lips and clit. You shuddered, arching your back so that he could have a better angle. The man took advantage of this immediately, thrusting up inside of you. You moaned wantonly, feeling him moving deeply within you. He reached down long enough to finish moving his pants out of the way, his sac slapping against your thighs as he fucked you fast and hard.

There was something absolutely animalistic about the way he was taking you, and you only grew more aroused at the thought. Moans and mewls of pleasure were leaving you. His name, his title—both slipping past your lips. General Hux nipped at your shoulder, his tongue soon darting out before he licked a trail to your face. You turned, your mouth meeting his as he released a low, possessive growl. You submitted further to him, whimpering as he seized your hair in one of his hands. He tugged, at the same time pressing down on you with his torso so that you leaned the upper half of your body towards the ground.

“You’re so damn tight,” he hissed, moving at a teasingly slow pace. Your eyelids fluttered, and you gulped down a load of saliva in response. “So fucking wet for your general.”

“Mmm… Yes, sir. Always, sir.” You panted as he removed the hand from your hair and replaced it on the ground. He rolled his hips, striking your g-spot repeatedly and turning you into a whimpering, moaning mess.

“You may call me Hux,” he hissed in your ear before again biting your neck in an erotic fashion. Your lips parted, and you panted out his name. His tongue assaulted where he had just bitten you before he shifted his mouth to a new, untouched portion of your flesh. “The reports indicate you have improved upon your already spectacular academic achievements. Was it to impress me?”

“P-partly, S-Hux?” you said, unsure whether you were supposed to use his title or name given what he was saying. When you were not scolded, you continued. “I… I take my…ah! I take my j-job v-v-v-v-very…mmmmm…seriously…. Ohhh!” He had set his fingers against your clitoris, pleasuring you through your orgasm. You felt him cumming inside of you as he did so, and you trembled at the sensation. He found your mouth with his, and you relished in the feeling of him kissing you. It indicated that you had done or said something right, which made the experience all the more pleasing for you. “Mmm… Ah, S-sir… Hux?”

“Hmm?” he hummed whilst nuzzling your neck and kissing your shoulder. He had one hand on your ass and was currently prodding you with his thumb, which he then inserted into you.

“I… I can barely…ah!…walk as it…mmm… I—“

“We’re testing your limits, (L/n),” he said, and you could feel him smirking against you. “How long until you’re unable to walk?” A chuckle escaped him, one that had you shivering in slight fear. “Relax… I don’t plan on hurting you, (Y/n).” The fact that he used your first name allowed you to know how truthful he was being. “Tomorrow you’ll simply be studying more… There is no need for you to walk.”

“Uhm… Well, I—“

“You’ll be staying here overnight, of course. The materials you need to study”—he grunted, slipping in another finger—“are here. If you are feeling overwhelmed, tell me to stop. You will not be punished, (L/n).” No doubt the latter portion was added due to the fact that, him being your general, you were not to disobey him in most circumstances. You were silently grateful that he vocally acknowledged the differentiation between your work relationship with him and the sexual one. A third finger entered you. You bucked your hips when the fourth one was added.

After a few more seconds, he removed all the fingers. You heard him rise and walk out of the room. Remaining in the same position, you closed your eyes until you could hear him returning. General Hux again knelt behind you. You could hear him untwisting a cap of something. Whatever that something was, it was slick, and he was apparently applying it to an object. You looked over your shoulder at him then faced straight ahead again. You were unsure how to feel about the double-ended dildo he was coating with lube. The man positioned one of the ends at your ass, slowly working it inside of you. You gulped down air when he then inserted the other end into your vaginal entrance.

The man held onto the remote control that was attached to the dildo. He pressed two switches, and your body spasmed as both ends of the dildo began to vibrate inside of you. Your fingers scratched at anything, your toes curling and the muscles in your legs tensing. You were gasping and panting loudly. You heard him press a button, and the pulse that was stimulating your vagina strengthened. You shuddered, feeling the man manipulating the sex toy so that it felt as though you were being fucked by two rather proportionate-sized cocks at the same time. You looked at the man through half-lidded eyes, watching as he placed onto each of his fingers massaging devices that were just slightly larger than his fingertips. These he turned on as well then placed his hands along your body.

General Hux tugged you up against his chest, groping your breasts. The vibrations had you trembling all over. “I… I can’t…Nnn…fuck….Ah!” You tried to remember how to breathe, what with him trailing down one of his hands to tease your clit. He reached further, lowering the intensity of the vibrations from the dildo. You were able to relax a little, not feeling quite so overwhelmed. His mouth sealed over yours, your moans drowned by the kisses he offered. He pinched a nipple between two of the massagers, your clitoris teased by another pair. You were practically screaming as you came, the man not removing any of the stimulation from your highly sensitive body. Panic began to envelop you. Your hands darted all around, trying to grab any and everything. General Hux altered the way he was touching you, and you became more obedient once more.

He rolled you onto your back. Kneeling above you, his legs on either side of your waist, the man simply watched you as he set both hands on your chest. Your mouth was open in a small _o_ of ecstasy. General Hux removed the massagers and his glove from one of his hands, which he then placed against the side of your face. He slipped his thumb into your mouth, and you started sucking on it immediately, your lips sealing it within your mouth as the man above you began tracing patterns on your lower belly. He once more increased the strength of the vibrators, and you squirmed underneath him. Your hands flew to the wrist that belonged to the hand whose thumb was in your mouth. You sucked harder, bending then flexing your legs repeatedly. Tears flowed freely from your eyes as you came again.

The man shut off the vibrations, pulling the two ends out of you. He lifted you up. Your legs were wobbly, and you leaned your body against his, holding tightly onto him to keep from falling. A ding emitted from the man’s datapad. General Hux swore. You released a small shriek when he lifted you up and tossed you over his shoulder. He walked over to the datapad, grabbed it up, and carried you to his bedroom. He set you on the ground so that you were kneeling, your torso over his bed. He set the datapad in front of you, opened the new message, and told you to read him the attached report.

Huffing, you opened the attachment while your superior moved to his closet. He took out something. You began to read the report to him in a tired drawl. A slap on your ass with a flat object had you yelping. You looked over your shoulder, and the man paused. He used the paddle again, this time a little more lightly. You grunted, turning back to the datapad and reading once more. Another smack. You sighed, leaning your head against the mattress and interpreting the chart that was included in the report. A slightly harder smack with the paddle. You bucked up against the edge of the bed.

The further you delved into the report, the more often he was spanking you with the paddle. You knew your ass was growing darker when he paused to run a hand along your cheeks. As if he were admiring his work. Then another smack. You grunted, lowering the datapad when you reached the end of the report. His pants dropped to the floor. You could hear General Hux kicking away his pants and boxers then felt him at your entrance. He shoved himself inside of you completely.

You rested your forehead against one of your arms. He was not moving slowly, fucking you fast and hard. His hand descended on your ass, picking up where the paddle had left off. You bit down on your arm, wrinkling your nose as you felt your legs turning more gelatin-like with every thrust. If you had not been against the bed, already kneeling, you supposed you would have collapsed.

“Mmm… St…” You bit down on your bottom lip, not wanting him to stop yet not believing you could continue. You were sore in some ways. Overall, you were entirely spent.

General Hux pulled out of you. He adjusted you so that you were completely on his bed. The man stood near your head, his hand working his cock. You turned your head to the side, mouthing him and caressing his sac with your fingertips. You swirled your tongue against him, opening your mouth and lapping at him the next second. You both worked his cock until he ejaculated, his cum hitting mostly your mouth and cheek. While he climbed onto the bed and moved between your legs, you wiped the cum from your face and licked your fingers. The man smirked down at you, his mouth capturing yours.

“How…how red is my ass?” you asked. General Hux lifted one of his spare blankets, wiping your face clean then tossing the cloth down to the ground. “On a scale from one to ten with ten being darkest… How red, sir?”

“Roughly a seven,” he murmured against your lips. You felt something land on the mattress near your feet. Fur tickled your leg as Millicent worked her way up towards yours and General Hux’s heads. She rubbed her head against her master’s chin then sniffed at your nose. The redhead lifted a hand, petting her. He lifted his body from yours, lifted his cat, and sat with his back to the wall. “Try to stand.”

“…you’ll… You’ll catch me if I start to fall, right?” You watched the man, whose expression was neutral at that time. He gestured for you to obey without giving an answer. You used your arms to drag yourself towards the edge of the bed then tried to ease your legs over the side. A _gah!_ left you as you fell unceremoniously to the ground. If he had tried to catch you, you realized, it would have done no good. An amused chuckle could be heard from the bed, as well as a curious _meow_ from Millicent. A few dings, and the individual that had been chuckling sighed.

“Do you need to be carried to the bathroom?”

“Well, I very well can’t walk, _sir_.” You backtracked, realizing that you should not be so sarcastic. As this dawned on you and you started to say an apology, General Hux set Millicent down on the ground next to you. He moved to the closet, pulled on a fresh pair of pants, and brought you one of his shirts. He worked your arms into the sleeves, buttoned up the front, and then scooped you up into his arms.

When the two of you returned to his room, he pulled you up against him so that your legs were draped over his. He slid the datapad onto your hip and began to go over everything that had been sent his way. You watched him work quietly while you laid there, your head against his chest. You knew that you would eventually fall asleep. Were equally aware that he would not get a sufficient amount of rest.

“Sir, you need an assistant,” you whispered, reading over some of the report. Some of it seemed inconsequential, a thing that could be summarized for the man rather than him having to waste precious time on its entirety.

“An assistant officer? Now, why would I have never thought of such a thing?” His tone implied that he had. Your eyes widened, and you tilted your head back to look up at him. He glanced down at you in return. “Yes, (L/n).” An answer to the question upon your lips. _That_ was what you were being groomed for, the reason behind why you had sat in on the briefing. It explained why he had had you reading the reports to him all evening. Doing research on certain political aspects that you had previously not understood. “Captain Phasma will make the final decision. Should you successfully complete the tests she has planned for you, you will assume the position immediately.”


	12. Testing for Assistance

Testing for Assistance

When you awoke the following morning, you wondered if the general had had any sleep. He was already gone by the time you regained consciousness, and you stared around the room. You were sore. Each time you moved a little, you felt the muscles in your legs and ass stiffening. You even had some pain in your vagina, which hardly surprised you. You groaned to yourself, glancing down towards the foot of the bed. Millicent was sitting there, slow-blinking at you. She released a tentative _meow_ at you. You extended your hand, wiggling your fingers and coaxing her towards you. The feline kneaded the blanket here and there on her way over. She head-butted your fingers, purring when you started to scratch the top of her head.

Eventually you withdrew your hand, shifting and wincing as you wormed your way out from underneath the covers. You attempted to stand, however your legs gave out on you. Collapsing to the floor, you sighed and rubbed the heel of your hand against your forehead. A large part of you was thankful that General Hux had already left. He would have undoubtedly simply laughed upon seeing you in your current state. You had to literally drag yourself to the bathroom, where you used the toilet then climbed into the tub to quickly rinse down. The warmth helped to ease some of the strain in your muscles, however you remained unable to correctly walk. You wobbled out of the bathtub, grabbed up the hairdryer, and sat down awkwardly as you dried your hair.

After close to an hour, you were nestled against the back of the couch with a pile of texts that you had been instructed, via a message on your datapad, to read. You stared blankly at the first of the texts, your eyes roaming over the words without anything being absorbed. Your mind was much too preoccupied with thoughts of how your career path had changed from what you had expected.

Originally you had joined the First Order to serve the cause, especially when your father had spoken so highly of it. Your mother had also praised your choice. Having always been of adequate intelligence, in your opinion, you knew that working as an officer in the First Order would mean that you would be challenged in many areas of expertise. The physical aspect had seemed daunting at first, and yet you had managed. When you tested high in your training, your instructors had spoken highly of you. They had urged you to put in for the training on Starkiller Base. You had been told that this would allow you to possibly put on a higher rank than if you simply continued training along with your peers.

It was debasing, the things the general did to you, the things he had you do. You wished that the acts did not arouse you as they did. That they only caused you shame. That they did not turn you into a moaning, whimpering mess. General Hux was quite perceptive, you well knew, and he would not continue doing anything that you believed to be too far. He had told you countless times to know your limits. Given you every out. Above everything, you were starting to hate how _desperate_ you were for him.

Even then, when you should be studying, all you could think about were the reasons your body was aching. The things he had done to you, with you. He did not allow personal sentiment to get in the way of your training, and yet you… You wished you could compartmentalize as well as he did.

Releasing a shaky sigh, you lowered your eyes back to the text. This time you managed to focus long enough to get through an entire chapter. There was more to politics, to mechanics, and to science within the First Order than you had been led to believe. How anyone remembered all these things was beyond you. Perhaps, you reasoned, that was why there were so many fields, so many officers, and positions to be filled. It was a high honor to even be considered worthy of being the assistant to the general. But what if you failed the test Captain Phasma had planned for you? You felt physically ill at the thought.

 _Focus. Focus. Focus,_ you mentally chanted to yourself.

You finished the first text and a portion of the second by the time lunch rolled around. Gritting your teeth, you forced yourself to stand while holding onto the couch to keep as steady as you could. Your legs wobbled all the same, always threatening to give out on you. The sound of the front door opening caused you to freeze. You stared with wide eyes at the entrance, through which walked General Hux. He glanced up from his datapad at you, smirking as he returned his gaze to the report he had open. Blushing due to the fact that your current state brought him such pleasure, you slowly headed for the kitchen. The man was working the entire time as he made his way to the same place. He grabbed out food without looking up from his datapad. The report had since wiped away the smirk, and he scowled.

Not wanting to interrupt him, you said nothing as you readied yourself something quick. You ate quietly, leaning up against the counter the entire time to keep from falling over. When he motioned to you with a quick flick of his fingers, summoning you towards him, you set down your food and used the edge of the counter to keep yourself steady as you walked to him. He set a hand on your shoulder, turning you so that your stomach was against the ledge. He lifted up the hem of the shirt you were wearing, his shirt, and stared at your ass. You swallowed thickly, feeling his fingers trailing along the reddened flesh. A hiss escaped you when he delivered a light slap. Your hips bucked forward in response to the next smack. He then ran his gloved hand along the tender flesh, pinching your ass cheek, caressing, pinching, spanking you again. You felt tears forming in your eyes at the pain, at the arousal his actions were causing.

At the next spanking, you yelped out, “Ow! No…ouch…fuck…” Then, hanging your head in shame, you waited for him to voice his disappointment. Instead the man went back to rubbing your tender flesh, no longer pinching or spanking you. His hand shifted to your hip, and he tugged you against him. You rested your forehead against his chest, feeling his chin atop your head as he no doubt resumed reading the report. “Do…do you have…ointment, sir?”

“Do you require ointment, (L/n)?” His tone was one of indifference.

You hesitated then uttered out, “Y-yes, General.”

The man shifted away from you, bringing his datapad along with him as he left the kitchen. You waited there, reaching behind yourself to grip the ledge. You kept your gaze on the ground, even when the man returned. He set his datapad on the counter then used one hand to hold the container of ointment while he unscrewed the lid with the other. He set his hands on your ass, smoothing the ointment over the tender flesh. You allowed your eyes to close at the feel of it. Already the effects were making themselves known. A sort of pulsing tingle, a light burn as the ointment was absorbed into your flesh to ease the pains in your muscles. He removed his limbs, wiped off his gloves on a towel, and replaced the container where it had been. General Hux then lifted the datapad, patted your hip, and left.

You stared down at your hip, where he had touched you. That was one way to say goodbye, you supposed. Truthfully, you would have preferred a kiss, yet the man did not seem to be that sort of romantic. Unsure how to feel exactly about the treatment, you finished your food and returned to the couch. You still had a decent amount of reading to do.

Apparently you had fallen asleep at some point, you realized upon opening your eyes. You felt a softness on you. You shifted a hand, finding that someone had covered you with a blanket. Something was touching your feet, massaging them. You glanced down, your cheeks heating up when you realized that your feet were on General Hux’s lap, that he was absentmindedly rubbing them as he read over yet another report. Noticing that you had woken, he glanced at you then returned his eyes to the datapad.

“Did you eat before you fell asleep?” You shook your head, starting to wonder what time it was. The hand shifted from your foot to your ankle, still rubbing. You flexed your foot, wiggling your toes against the front of his pants. His lips parted, and you could hear him inhale sharply as you pressed lightly against him. You easily discovered how he had tucked his cock and began to run your foot up and down against it. You managed to pinch his zipper between your toes, dragging it down. You then pressed your big toe into the hole that had formed, flicking upwards and working at his button. The hand on your ankle tensed, though not too harshly, as you wormed your foot down into his boxers and against his cock. He resumed his rubbing, the pressure a bit more than it had previously been.

You felt him hardening under your ministrations. You moved so that his cock rubbed along your instep then slipped your other foot on the other side of him. General Hux was beginning to breathe heavily. You gently ran your toe over the head of his erection. It was different from giving someone a handjob, yet in some ways similar. You knew how to work your feet against him without applying too much pleasure or detracting from his pleasure in any way.

As you ran your feet along his cock, General Hux swiped through the report then replaced his hand on your leg. He was rubbing, massaging, starting to buck up into your touch, which meant you had to be extra careful lest you wind up accidentally kicking him in a rather sensitive portion of his anatomy. You watched his face while you pleasured him, loving the way he was starting to bare his teeth, no doubt trying to hold out so that you did not stop.

“Do you want my mouth, sir?” you asked, half teasing, half serious. His eyes darted to you, no doubt mostly due to your tone. “You’ll get your pants dirty.”

General Hux responded by shoving your feet away so hard that they fell off the couch. You shifted, wincing a little though the pain had somewhat faded after the ointment. You pulled aside the blanket, wrapping a hand around him and lowering your mouth onto his throbbing member. His hand instantly went to the back of your head, his fingers in your hair and forcing you to bob along his length. You moaned around him, tasting the precum that was dripping onto your tongue. When you drew back for air, you drooled on him. Licking your lips, you tried to wipe away your spit before it could run down to dirty his clothing. You licked where your fingers had touched then once more engulfed him.

“I should leave you like this more often,” he muttered, grunting the next moment as he came. You swallowed down the spurts of semen that filled your mouth then lifted your eyes to watch him as you drew back. Leather was against your cheek, his thumb hooking into your mouth so that you started to suck on the digit. “Unable to leave my quarters. Working all day and ready for me in the evening.” He shifted his hand, maneuvering it so that his arm slipped under yours and he was able to pull you up against him. “Although if you’re not eating properly…”

“I hadn’t even realized I was tired, sir.” You rested your head against his shoulder, glancing towards his datapad. “There’s a lot of information to absorb, to process… I hadn’t realized how much depth there would be to each topic.”

“You’re feeling overwhelmed?” he asked, touching a portion of the report to bring up a chart. You shook your head, muttering out a _No, sir_. “Physically exhausted then.” As he said this, his hand made its way to your ass. He squeezed, as though emphasizing the cause of your exhaustion. “There are still nearly three days during which you can complete your reading. If you need to take catnaps”—his lips quirked at the term—“rather than sleep through the night for one or two of these days, so be it.” You realized that he likely did as such many a times. “Now, read this.” He passed the report to you after he closed out of the graph.

Standing, General Hux tucked himself away then headed for the kitchen. The redhead began sifting through the cupboards while you read the report, your voice loud enough that it carried. You were in the final portion of the report when he returned. General Hux slipped the plate onto your lap, seizing his datapad and pulling it out of your grasp. You poked at the food, which was a healthy, well-balanced meal all together. You lifted the first bite, nibbling on it.

The following few days ran similarly, though you took General Hux’s advice to heart. You took catnaps here and there, spending the rest of your time reading either the texts of reports to the General when he grew tired of staring at his datapad. You dressed in your superior’s shirts, foregoing wearing any underwear. When Captain Phasma arrived on Starkiller, however, you at last returned to your own quarters and dressed in your proper uniform. When you were set to report to her, you felt your heart alternating between stuttering and racing.

You tried to not allow your fear to show as she took you into one of the simulators. You ran through three separate simulations with a number of her cadets. After this, she verbally quizzed you on certain aspects of history regarding both the Empire and the First Order. For an hour you sat at a console, performing several tasks that you had done when shadowing the other officers. After this, she took you to an empty shooting range. It was vacant, much as it had been when General Hux had had you train with him present. You inhaled deeply at the memory before focusing fully on what Captain Phasma wanted of you.

She gestured towards the center of the room. You went there, obeying without hesitation when she told you to stand with your legs apart and hands on the back of your head. She grabbed one of the blasters, pointing it in your direction. The first shot zipped past your head. Sweat gathered on the back of your neck, and you could feel your pulse quicken. She fired again, this time between your legs. A third time, the blast singing the material of your uniform shirt. Captain Phasma fired a few more times then once more instructed you to follow her.

You stepped out into the coldness of Starkiller Base, heading in the direction of the ship she had arrived on. Your pulse was drumming your ears. You felt lightheaded, yet managed to not collapse. Two Stormtroopers were standing on either side of a third individual, who was on his knees. His hands were bound behind his back and a gag had been inserted into his mouth. You recognized the uniform; he was Resistance. The man glared at you and Captain Phasma, however you could see the traces of fear on his face. This increased when your superior shoved a blaster into your hands. You adjusted your grip immediately, feeling your mouth dry when you were instructed to execute the man.

Your training had never included killing someone. You supposed it made sense, however, if you were to be the general’s assistant. You would be expected to protect him at all costs. To kill any Resistance soldier you came in contact with.

Your hand shook a little as you raised the weapon and took aim. You kept your eye on the target, going over and over in your head the proper way to fire. You had shot at simulated Resistance soldiers and pilots. Had taken a number of fictional lives. This should be no different, you told yourself. All the same, your head was spinning as you pulled the trigger. Your heart clenched in your chest. You felt ill, yet you tried not to show it. You did your best to keep face, to not show any weakness. Because if you did, you would fail. Though Captain Phasma was your superior, in a way she was your enemy—she would send you to reconditioning if you reacted poorly to the execution.

.

.

You were sitting on the bed in your own quarters, staring blankly at the far wall. You had killed a man. He had been of the Resistance; he would have either killed your comrades, put a mission in jeopardy, or worse. You buried your face in your hands, hunching over and fighting off the wave of nausea. You felt strange. In some ways numb, in other ways hypersensitive. There was no knock on the door, yet you had heard the approaching footsteps. You stood at attention, your mind racing yet in a haze. The last time General Hux and Captain Phasma had entered your quarters in this way, you had been aboard the _Finalizer_ , had eventually been sent back to training.

The door closed behind your two superiors. Captain Phasma remained by the door, while General Hux moved closer. He held up a photograph before your face, and your eyes dropped to the ground. At the sound of your name sounding sharply in the general’s voice, you snapped your gaze back to the picture. It was of the corpse, the man you had shot. As you surveyed the picture, Captain Phasma and General Hux appeared to be gauging your every reaction. Due to this, you attempted to keep your facial features relaxed.

“(L/n).” You flinched, your eyes darting to his face. His expression was unreadable. The man turned, his attention on Captain Phasma. “Proceed with the evaluation.”

“Come,” Captain Phasma said, and you knew immediately she was speaking to you. You followed after her, soon finding yourself before a psych tech. It was different than in the past; you had never before had your superior present when completing a psych evaluation. You answered honestly all the same. It did not take you long to understand that they were seeing if you were going into shock over the fact that you had killed someone, an enemy no less.

When the evaluation was completed, you were taken to a new building once more. The room you did not initially recognize. You were sat down in a chair. Metal all around you. The walls bare. You looked around, tensing when the door opened and closed. Captain Phasma and General Hux were inside with you. An interrogation room, though not one for prisoners. It was when spies were suspected, or officers that were thought to be a detriment to the First Order in other ways.

“I… I don’t understand,” you said. Your eyes were on General Hux, who was flicking the side of a syringe. You watched the man press the needle into you, delivering what you knew to be a sort of truth serum. In little time, you started to feel the effects. You leaned into his touch when General Hux placed the back of his hand against your cheek.

“Do you feel guilt for pulling the trigger?” You answered that you were not sure, which was the truth. “Would you pull it again without hesitation?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Do you sympathize with the Resistance?”

“No, Captain.”

Questions for what felt like hours, but was most likely only forty-five minutes. Captain Phasma was wearing a mask, so you could not gauge her reactions. General Hux kept his expression neutral. By the end of the interview, you did not know what they had learned, what they thought of you. You were taken back to your quarters, where you remained for the rest of the day and through the night.

The following day you were again to report to Captain Phasma, who informed you that you were to prepare a briefing, which you would deliver to General Hux. You spent the better part of the day sorting through the information, condensing it and wording it properly. You memorized the briefing as best you could, knowing it would look better if you were not staring at the brief the entire time you delivered it. At the time when you delivered the brief, Captain Phasma was present as well. Once more were both of them unreadable. When this task was completed, both escorted you to the shooting range. This time you were the one holding the blaster. You fired, hardly missing your target.

Four more days of various tests. Three interrogations. Sixteen simulations. Eight hours of exercises. Four shooting tests. Two more psych evaluations. Five briefings. You obediently obeyed every order, completed these tasks without question.

All that found you in your current position in front of Captain Phasma and General Hux. They were surveying your file in front of you. Neither saying a word. Each occasionally glancing your way. General Hux pointed to one of the items, saying something under his breath so that only the chrome-clad female could hear. She made a noise of assent. You swallowed hard, remaining as still as possible. At last they both faced you.

General Hux lifted his chin, staring down his nose at you. “(L/n).” Stern. Unreadable. You did not know how to react, were unsure of the results, and you did not quite know if you were ready to hear whether or not you had failed.


	13. Who's Your Boss

Who’s Your Boss?

You jumped at the sound of the door opening behind you. Captain Phasma and General Hux both looked over at the individual who entered. Boot stomps betrayed the person’s identity. Your unease only increased at the presence of Kylo Ren, whom you had not been aware had arrived once more on Starkiller Base. The darkly clad Knight had a file in his hand. This he whipped in your direction, hitting the edge of the folder into your stomach, which caused you to release an _oomph_. Your hands instinctively seized the object, your mind taking a moment to realize that the man had spoken.

“Probation.” Your face must have betrayed your confusion, for Kylo Ren tilted his head to the side while considering you. He then looked over at General Hux and Captain Phasma, the former of which frowned deeply. Turning back to you, he spoke with that modulated voice: “Congratulations. Probationary. Let’s not waste more time, General.” As he said this final portion, the Master of the Knights of Ren began to walk out of the room. General Hux and Captain Phasma began to follow after. The redhead paused long enough to seize you by your upper arm and steer you out of the room.

When your superior gestured with a quick wave of his hand, you continued to follow him even once he was no longer touching you. Your mind was wrapped up in the fact that you had apparently gotten the position, albeit in a probationary capacity. You were being tried out, seen if you could fit the bill. Your heart was pitter-pattering in your chest due to both this and the fact that apparently you needed to complete a task wherein all three of your superiors would be present. Not knowing what else to do, you peeked at the file in your hands.

The Command Shuttle was in the process of being prepared for take-off. Four passengers. Kylo Ren, Captain Phasma, General Hux…and Assistant to the General. You were headed for the _Finalizer_. Preparations had already been made; your belongings had been packed for you. The mission, for which everyone but you apparently had already been briefed, was to meet with one of the Republic Senators who, unbeknownst to the Resistance or Republic, was feeding the First Order with information. As a sign of good faith, it had been agreed that the triumvirate would be present. You would be there due to your new position. The senator would board the _Finalizer_ after coming out of hyperspace, where he would then join the triumvirate for a meal while handing over what could prove to be valuable information that was sought by Supreme Leader Snoke.

When you boarded the Command Shuttle along with the other three, Kylo Ren turned and steered you back out. General Hux whipped around, ready to protest though he failed to do so when the other male pointed towards a nearby door and ordered you to use the bathroom before takeoff. You inwardly groaned, realizing that you were _never_ going to live down the fact that General Hux had made you piss your pants by shooting at you. You turned, walked over to the door he had indicated, and used the bathroom. You quickly returned then took your seat beside the general, who visibly fought off a smirk.

Stars were your superiors assholes.

That masked face stared straight at you as you thought that. You ducked your head, having momentarily forgotten that he could read thoughts, sense emotions to a certain capacity.

Upon arriving at the _Finalizer_ , Kylo Ren and Captain Phasma both broke off from you and the general. The redhead, meanwhile, remained next to you. He walked slower than usual, no doubt for your benefit. You were awkwardly walking beside him, your mind not having completely caught up with everything that was occurring. General Hux cleared his throat as the two of you headed down one of the corridors. He quickened his pace for half a beat, drawing up in front of you and then stopping. You froze, looking up at his face.

“Congratulations, (L/n).” You felt your face flush all the way to your ears. He had missed his chance to say this before; Ren had stolen his thunder in a way. You muttered out a soft _Thank you, sir_ while resisting the urge to fidget with your hair. You felt like a schoolgirl with a crush on the teacher—principal, you corrected yourself.

Two sets of boots heading down the corridor caused the two of you to pause. General Hux’s jaw tensed. You knew the cause immediately; Kylo Ren and Captain Phasma arrived on either of his side. The female looked at the redhead, who turned to her. She voiced that he was needed on the bridge simultaneous to when the Commander told you that you were to come with him. General Hux was not fazed in the least by this, though he turned his head long enough to nod at you reassuringly. This allowed you to understand that one of your roles as his assistant was to be present when he could not be. At the very least on certain tasks.

You cringed as you began following Kylo Ren. “Uhm…Sir? Where…where are we going, sir?”

“To ensure the kitchen knows what to make for dinner,” Kylo Ren said without hesitation. You shuddered at the thought of what might happen if they planned on making the _wrong_ meal.

You did not have to wait long to find out. You watched with wide eyes as the Knight slashed through various pots and pans with his lightsaber. He had narrowly avoided the oven, and you hoped that luck continued. It would not due to have any of the appliances broken. That would only delay dinner, which would make him upset all over. You tentatively raised a hand, as though you were a student in class waiting to be called on. Kylo Ren halted, his saber a fraction of an inch away from the ledge. He turned his head, looking straight at you.

“Uhm… Maybe… Maybe you shouldn’t…er….well…” You were starting to stammer as the lightsaber-wielding man stepped over to you. He hovered above you, staring down with a slightly hunched over posture. The weapon was still activated. “Not in the kitchen?”

You half expected you would be killed right there. Instead, Kylo Ren deactivated his lightsaber. He did not, however, replace it on his hip. You quickly shuffled after him when the man strode out of the kitchen. The staff released a collective sigh of relief at his departure, and you only hoped that this did not lead him to make a return. You stopped walking only when you entered a different room behind the Knight. He was looking around, as though attempting to decide something. The man then turned to you, holding out the lightsaber.

You approached with caution, wondering if he was about to reactivate the lightsaber and impale you with it. You lifted your hand, wrapping your fingers around the hilt. Your eyes were wide as saucers when he allowed you to remove the weapon from his hand. When he gestured towards one of the nearby consoles, however, your heart sank. He wanted you to cut it up. You were supposed to be the General’s assistant. The issue, however, was that Kylo Ren was still your superior. What would happen if you disobeyed? But if you obeyed it would reflect badly on the general.

You jumped in place when a gloved hand closed around yours. You looked up at Kylo Ren’s masked visage. His thumb grazed over yours, hitting the button that activated the lightsaber. He slashed the first time and you yelped as sparks flew. A second strike, both your hands on the weapon that was slicing through the console. General Hux was _not_ going to be pleased.

“And yet you saved the kitchen… You should be proud,” Kylo Ren said offhandedly, bringing both your hand and his down another time. If you did not know any better, you would say he was having fun doing this. Making General Hux’s assistant destroy things with him. Then again, you reminded yourself, the redhead had said something along the lines of you making an impression on Ren. And the Knight had taken off that derogatory note from your back. Maybe giving in a _little_ wouldn’t be too bad a thing, right?

You became aware that you were the only one holding the weapon, the only one slicing through the console. You froze, holding your breath and slowly turning. General Hux was going to _kill_ you. The Force user shut off his saber, took it from your hand, and replaced the weapon on his hip. He then walked up and down the room, surveying the damage the two of you had done.

“You’re quite destructive when you let go.” The man transferred his attention from the destroyed console to you. You lowered your gaze to the ground. “If you chose to harness that power, you would improve on your already impressive scores. It’s already been suspected that you unconsciously hold back.” He considered the areas of destruction that were from your hand alone. “It seems that assumption was correct.”

“I’m not sure—“

“Captain Phasma has already informed me of your…relationship with the general. I won’t have such a bias. Part of your training will be conducted in my presence.” You gulped. He chuckled, a dark sort of sound that turned into something more humor-filled. “I won’t kill you.”

“Maybe just remove a few limbs?” you asked, pressing your limbs closer to the rest of your body.

“No. However, you may find yourself in med bay for other injuries.”

 _Great,_ you thought. _Just great. Now there are two of my superiors who’ll make it hard to walk._

Kylo Ren tilted his head to the side, and you felt as though your face were on fire. There was _no_ way he had missed the images of what Hux had done to you that had floated through your head. Thankfully, he quickly dismissed whatever it was he had seen/heard from your mind. The man exited the room, and you obediently went after him. Though he was your superior and though you were in many ways deathly afraid of him, you could not help but think:

_Well, I sort of needed a friend…_

“No.” Your heart sank. “You need a teacher.”

_Well, that’s good too, I guess?_

“You project loudly. Control your thoughts.”

“Yes, sir.” You wondered if your loud ‘projections’ had anything to do with your current frantic state of mind. Thinking that this was the case, you did what you could to calm yourself. It was surprisingly easy, given whose company you were in. Kylo Ren did not comment on your thoughts again, and so you assumed that you had discovered the correct cause. “Uh, where are we going?”

“This way.” You frowned, however said nothing. You did not want to incur his wrath. “Are you this inquisitive with the general?”

“Sometimes,” you replied honestly. “Are you keeping me away from General Hux right now?”

“Why do you ask that?” In some ways, you found his modulated voice to be somewhat comforting. It was mellow, relaxed. Remembering the sound of his natural voice, you half wished he would remove the helmet. So relaxing. Like a friend. “Teacher.”

“Sorry, sir. Uhm… I was asking because… Well, I was thinking that by now he would have taken care of whatever it was he had to on the bridge. And, given that I’ve never been present for a political dinner—or meeting of any sort—and that I’m now acting as his assistant… I was thinking that he would probably want to brief me or…”

“Clever.”

“So…you are keeping me from him?”

“I’m curious to see how long it will take him to find you.”

“…was the destruction a sort of…bread crumb trail?”

“You’re wanting to do it again? Leave more…crumbs?” he asked, teasing. You shifted uncomfortably. “I find it to be an…amicable act.” Your lips twitched at the words. Oh, he was good. He was _good_ at this.

“Will he know I’m the one doing the damage?” you asked, your eyes darting to the saber. Kylo Ren removed the lightsaber, handing it to you. He gestured towards a random janitorial cart. You fiddled with the switch, turning on the saber and cutting through the object. Your cuts were very jagged compared to the ones you had seen him deliver. You realized that, yes, General Hux would definitely know that you were the one wielding the weapon. If you stuck to janitorial carts, however, there was a chance he wouldn’t be too pissed at you.

You shut off the lightsaber and handed it back to the darkly clad man. He set it on his hip then started forward, his pace a little faster than previous. You rushed to keep up with him. For some reason this game was fun. Too much fun. You were excited, in part because General Hux was chasing after you. It was thrilling in many ways. You wondered if Kylo Ren was keeping you away from General Hux just to piss the man off or if he was killing some of his boredom. There were a number of more important things he could be doing instead of meeting with some senator. Whatever the reason, you hoped it would not end too soon.

That, however, had not meant that you had _wanted_ him to Force-push you into the nearest room. He ducked in behind you. You kept silent, glowering at him as you heard footsteps approaching. Boots walking past. Captain Phasma and General Hux, if you guessed. Even after the sounds disappeared, your superior waited a minute and a half longer before he left the room with you. You and he headed in the direction opposite of where the boots had traveled. Kylo Ren used his saber to slice through a random item in the hallway. The sound of General Hux shouting the man’s name. You placed your hand over your mouth then darted down the corridor and turned a corner. The man, your newest teacher for your First Order career and friend-in-denial—you could feel him shooting you a look—followed you this time.


	14. Here, Kitty-Kitty

Here, Kitty-Kitty

Your heart was racing in your chest as you continued to duck behind one of the many obstacles in the room. Kylo Ren had started to move to leave, however came to a pause. The door on the other side of the room opened, and your heart sank. General Hux, his eyes fierce with frustration and displeasure, swept along the Force user then to you. Next to him stood Captain Phasma, who entered the room directly after him. Kylo Ren walked over to her, acting as though nothing out of the ordinary had just occurred. You, meanwhile, were left to face the general, who stepped closer and closer to you. Those boots stopped directly in front of you, and you stared at the leather while enduring the man’s scrutiny. Apparently he did not share your sentiments on the game you had been playing.

“Stand, (L/n).” Judging by his tone, no he most certainly did not. You kept your back pressed tightly against the wall as you slid upwards into a standing position. Unable to meet his gaze, you kept staring at his boots. You had thought it was fun, though you could see how the fact that his ship was a casualty would displease him. “Come.”

You bowed your head as you followed after him, feeling rather like a scolded child. While walking past Captain Phasma and Kylo Ren, the latter gave you a nod. He was pleased that the general was not entirely happy. You found yourself conflicted. You wanted to please the general, yet at the same time you sort of _liked_ the man who would be acting as your teacher. You wiggled your fingers in a brief wave to him then resumed staring at the floor while following your superior.

“What you do, seeing that you are _my_ assistant, is a direct reflection of _me_.” You started to mutter out a _Sorry, sir_ , however were cut off with him holding up his hand. You winced, wishing he was at least a little less pissed than he appeared to be. “You apparently need to be taught discipline. Is that it, (L/n)?”

Knowing he would accept no other answer, you said, “Yes, sir.”

“Humility.”

“Yes, sir.”

Of course, you thought later as the senator boarded the ship, you had not believed General Hux would have resorted to such measures. Though you were in your proper uniform, you were technically not within regulations. Cat ears that he had affixed to the top of your head with a headband. Being that you were indoors, you were not wearing your hat, and so the ears were all the more visible to everyone. And the tail, which was attacked to the crotchless panties you were sporting. The tail hung out of your pants, and you kept blushing whenever you felt it brushing against your legs as you walked. Not to mention the collar with the bell. Each step you took had that little ball ringing.

The senator’s eyes wandered to you once more, and you lowered your gaze to the floor. He had inquired why you were dressed as such upon boarding, and General Hux, without batting an eyelash, had stated that you were being disciplined. Being taught humility and obedience. The senator had merely nodded, smirked to himself, and addressed Captain Phasma and Kylo Ren, both of whom hardly spared your new attire a second look.

Your three superiors and the senator entered the room in which a table had been set up. The senator’s two bodyguards and you followed after them, noting the various trays and platters that had portions of the meal already being served. The senator took a seat on one side of the table while his guards stood on either side of him, and General Hux sat directly across from him. Kylo Ren and Captain Phasma took their seats as well, spaced a little from the general and the senator. Neither removed their helmet. You moved to sit beside the redhead, whose eyes swept up to your face as he frowned.

“Cats do not sit at the table, (L/n).” You had never imagined your face could feel so hot. You paused, your hand held out in your previous gesture of seizing a chair. His eyes darted to the floor then back up to your face. You swallowed thickly, obediently following the silent order. Lowering yourself onto your knees, you set your hands in front of yourself so that you were seated near your superior on the floor. He grunted then turned his attention to the senator.

It was one thing for him to do these things in the bedroom with you, you thought. Now it was public, a tool to humiliate you because you had displeased him. You fought off the urge to cry, your throat suddenly feeling too thick and your eyes stinging as you resisted the tears that were threatening to form.

The sounds of conversation went in one ear and out the other as you stared at the ground. The patterns on the floor were beginning to blur, and so you blinked. “I’m surprised you don’t have her crawling everywhere,” the senator said between taking bites of food. You glanced up at the redhead, whose eyes slid to you momentarily. He released a single breath through his nose. Not a laugh. Something short of an outright scoff.

It was Captain Phasma who next spoke. “She is being punished, not trained to become some animal. A lesson in humility need not be taken to unnecessary levels.”

You heard a strangled noise come from the senator, as though he wished to argue his point yet did not want to displease these three individuals. Not that you could blame him. The First Order’s triumvirate was intimidating even when they were not expressing displeasure.

General Hux dished some food onto a plate, which he set on the floor in front of you. You thought for a moment that he intended you to eat like a cat as well, however were soon feeling a sense of relief when he next set down a fork and knife. He returned to his own meal. Captain Phasma and Kylo Ren, still having not removed their helmets, merely sat there. You figured that they had eaten earlier. Their presence here was for business only. You stared at the food on your plate, your eyes darting along the fork. You were hungry, yet the shame coursing through you was making your stomach burn. You felt as though you might throw up should you take a single bite.

Not wanting to further displease your superior, however, you picked up the knife and fork, carving into the meat and forcing yourself to take that first bite. Your mouth watered at the taste. You should have suspected it, you thought. They were sparing no expenses, what with the guest being a senator who would be providing important information. You looked to the senator’s bodyguards, finding that they kept glancing at you. They were visible fighting off smirks at your current position. You scowled, caught yourself, and forced a neutral expression onto your face.

“I can see why you would want such an assistant,” the senator said after some time had elapsed during which more political matters had been discussed.

General Hux did not show any emotion on his face, however you could tell that he was disgusted with the remark. As though he would allow any sort of sexual or romantic sentiment to influence his decision. “She is a capable soldier.”

“Your cat has claws?” the senator asked. You knew his bravery stemmed from the alcohol he had consumed with his meal.

“Is a demonstration necessary, senator?” Kylo Ren questioned. The political figure must have given an indication that he wished this to be so, for the Knight gestured with his hand towards one of the guns at the bodyguards’ hips. The man on the senator’s left withdrew the weapon, setting in on the table. “Here, Kitty.”

You looked to General Hux as you stood. He spared you a single glance then stared at the senator. You reached for the weapon then waited. Captain Phasma instructed you to walk to the end of the room, near the door, and you did so. You turned, facing the table and again waited. The target was small, nearly at the end of the long table. You checked the weapon as surreptitiously as possible then took aim. Your finger traced along the trigger then pulled. The senator jumped, and the two bodyguards appeared to be even more on edge. You had not missed your target.

Without missing a beat, you returned to the table, set down the weapon, and once more knelt at the general’s side. The senator cleared his throat. “My mistake then.” Though he said nothing, the slight alteration in the way General Hux held his head said it all. You doubted the senator would be making any more assumptions. The lesson in humility was not yours alone.

.

.

You were oblivious to the fact that your bottom lip was protruding in a pout until General Hux traced his thumb along it. The leather ran smoothly along you, and you raised your eyes to his face as he pinched your lip between his thumb and the side of his index finger. He tugged lightly then released your lip, which returned to its proper place with a sort of popping noise. He lowered his hand, flicking the bell that was affixed to the collar on your neck. General Hux released a deep breath at the sound of jingling. Kneeling on your bed, you remained perfectly still when he stroked the top of your head, petting you in a similar manner he did with Millicent.

“Do you think it pleases me to have my ship damaged, (L/n)?” he asked levelly.

“No, sir.”

“General!” the man said with a hiss.

You flinched. “No, General.”

“Should I have to chase you around like that?”

“No, General.”

“Did it give you some sort of thrill to make me do so?”

“N… Yes, General.”

Without another word, he tugged off his belt, doubling it over and holding it in a manner that suggested he would be using it for a purpose other than keeping his uniform on correctly. You shuddered, standing when he commanded you to do so. You turned, lowered your pants, and seized the tail so that you could hold it out of his way. He then had you lean with your elbows against the mattress of the bed, your ass high in the air. The first time the belt met your flesh, you released a loud, screamed out yelp. This was different than any other time had spanked you; it was not pleasurable in the least. At the second smack, you buried your face against the mattress, sobbing quietly as you began to cry.

“If you do not silence yourself, (L/n),” he said, sounding as though he were baring his teeth, “then I will have to allow Captain Phasma to take over the punishment she has deemed fit for your actions.”

It did not make things any easier, knowing that General Hux was not the one to decide that beating you with a belt was a good idea. You clenched your teeth, trying to swallow your cries as the belt smacked you a third time. He had told you that either Captain Phasma or one of your other superiors would be the one to choose your punishments should you need discipline. The fact that he had you wearing the cat ears, tail, and collar had been an exception. You grabbed hold of your blankets, wrinkling them in your fists as you felt the belt on your rear another time. The next three hits he did in rapid succession.

Your only reprieve was that he was not forcing you to count them. Your entire body trembled as pain traveled through you. The sound of the leather belt hitting your ass was loud, echoing off the walls of your room. He wasn’t holding back, which in many ways did not surprise you. General Hux was a merciless man. And yet he was showing you a kindness by being the one to deliver the blows; had Captain Phasma been doing so, she would have added to the number due to your crying.

When you heard the belt being set off to the side, you allowed your legs to give out on you. You sank onto your knees, pulling your arms around your face as crying into them. His hand touched the top of your head, stroking you, tugging on the hairband that was keeping your locks in place. Your hair, now freed, fell against your flesh. Each time your shoulders heaved with a sob, the bell around your neck rang.

General Hux removed his hand from you and took a seat on the edge of your bed beside you. You felt his hands slip under your armpits, and he tugged you up onto his lap. You buried your face in your hands against his chest, wincing with every move. He placed your legs on either side of his hips, having you straddle him before he wrapped one arm around you. The other he used to stroke you again, petting from your head down to the middle of your back over and over again.

“You are not to destroy any portion of my ship again, (L/n).”

“A-af-fir-fir-ma…ti-tive, sir,” you said, swallowing thickly and trying to get yourself under control.

He stopped petting you in favor of reaching between your body and his to undo the buttons on your shirt. You squeezed your eyes closed, allowing him to strip you of the rest of your clothing. He set his hand on your upper arm after removing your bra, and trailed the limb down the length of your arm to your glove. He slipped his fingers under the edge of it, pulling off the leather then repeating these actions on your other arm. He leaned forward, tugging off your boots and socks so that you were left wearing only the crotchless panties with the tail, the collar and the cat ears.

General Hux slipped a finger under your chin and tilted your head back. You kept your eyes low, not meeting his gaze. “It thrilled you that I was chasing after you, (L/n)?”

“Y..ye….yes, General,” you whispered, your bottom lip quivering.

He stood, holding you against him then turning and setting you on your back on the bed. You stared up at him, drawing your legs closer to yourself as General Hux ran his eyes along your body then your face. “What am I, (L/n)?”

“M-my General, sir,” you said, watching him with mounting curiosity. The pain on your rear was giving way to numbness. You knew that would change if you tried to sit rather than lie down.

“And what are you?” As he spoke, he pressed the back of his hand to your cheek, trailing it down towards your neck.

“Your Assistant, sir.” He flicked the bell on the collar, making it jingle as he frowned. You swallowed then tried again. “Your…cat, sir?” His hand met your cheek again, this time the palm touching you.

“What does your General require of you, (L/n)?” Your gaze fell to his pants, to the bulge therein. You started to reach for him, however stopped short when he said: “What are you, (L/n)?”

You slowly moved, so as not to cause the pain to return, onto your hands and knees on the bed. You felt your cheeks heating up as you pressed your face close to his crotch, your lips closing around the material several times before you successfully capture his zipper with your teeth. You tugged it down then worked your tongue against the button on his pants. You had to be careful to not bite him as you nipped at his pants, raising a hand and literally pawing at him like a cat would. In this manner you were able to free his erection of both his pants and undergarments. Still acting like a cat, you lapped at his cock. General Hux played with the cat ears that you were wearing then grabbed your jaw, squeezing so that your mouth opened and he was able to thrust inside. You whimpered around him, and he loosened his hold.

He kept his hips stilled as you bobbed your head along his length. You pulled backwards, his cock slipping out of your mouth so that you could lick at him again. Up and down his entire shaft, your lips sealing around him several times in light kisses. General Hux took a step backwards, and you looked up at his face. He stared down at you, as though expectant. You bit your bottom lip then released it while letting out a shy _meow_. The only indication that he was pleased by this was the way his chest rose and fell a little more heavily. You could not meet his eye with the next meow, which was a little louder. You shuddered as you turned your back to him, hiking up your rear. You squeezed your eyes closed, feeling mortified as you let out a howl like a cat in heat.

“You’re a good girl, (L/n),” he said, his amusement and pleasure both evident. His hands seized your hips, and he pulled you back against him. His cock slipped along your lower lips, the head of his erection swiping along your clit. You mewled in arousal, spreading your legs a little wider and pressing tightly against him. General Hux started to fuck your outer lips, brushing his cock along your clit with every thrust. You panted, releasing a _meow_ or strangled howl on occasion. “Such a good, kitty.”

Your mouth fell open, your breath hot on the bed as he eased his cock into you. It stretched you, filled you, and you were so wet for him. His hands ran up and down your hips a few times before he held you tightly, setting a quick pace. You reached between your legs, rubbing your clitoris with three fingers as he pounded into you. General Hux grunted, swearing a few times as you mewled and moaned.

The bell on your collar would not stop jingling, and your mattress was starting to squeak. He brought your hips against him, the man shoving himself balls deep into your tightness. You pressed your tongue against the roof of your mouth, setting your lips on the hand that was not stimulating your clit. You started to suck on your own flesh, your orgasm washing over you. General Hux swore again as your walls pulsed around him. His hips stuttered, his own release hitting him. He withdrew from you, sat on the bed, and then ran a hand through his hair. You turned your head to watch him, rolling onto your side so that your ass did not touch anything. Some of the soreness had returned from your previous activities.

General Hux reached over, stroking your face before pinching the bell between his index and middle fingers. “Chasing you would have been more arousing had you _not_ been keen on using Ren’s saber to damage things.”

“Sorry, sir.”

“I was half-tempted to deny you an orgasm…and yet I found your noises to be quite endearing.” He relinquished hold of the bell, again running his fingers along your face. “Ren is pleased with the power you displayed. Be sure that you learn discipline along with how to harness that power. I don’t need the two of you slicing through my ship again.” You muttered out a reply. The redhead placed a hand on your side. “Ten minutes more then we will begin working. There are several reports from Starkiller, and I don’t want to waste my time with anything that you could just as easily take care of.”

“Of course, General.” He removed the collar from your neck, hooked his finger under the strap of the panties, and tugged those off as well. His eyes drifted to the headband that contained the ears. After a moment of reluctance, he took those from you too. “So… You aren’t mad that I was running from you?”

“It was more entertaining than being forced to have dinner with that senator.” You relaxed on the bed, allowing a smile to grace your lips. “I am not permitted to give you ointment to treat any discomfort derived from your punishment.”

“I won’t break anything again, sir.” His arm slipped under you, dragging you close to him. You winced as pain shot through your rear, however you were able to relax again almost immediately. “I was afraid I was going to miss the shot.”

“That is because you hold back, which is one of the reasons you are on probation. Ren is correct, and it is why I have agreed to allow him to train you despite the fact that you are _my_ trainee. Phasma also believes it prudent to allow Ren to do so. You are a good kitty, (L/n), however you are a better soldier.”

“That means a lot, sir.” General Hux leaned forward, kissing you. You eagerly returned his kisses, able to ignore the pain on your ass as you were too pleased at his praise, at the way his kisses were somehow more tender than they had ever been.


	15. As Your General

As Your General

You were relatively sure that baking cookies had nothing to do with training. However, being that Kylo Ren was the instructor and you were the trainee, you did not protest. He sat on a chair, watching you mix the ingredients, roll the dough into small balls, and place them on the cookie sheets. These you put into the oven and then you started a timer. The two of you waited patiently for the cookies to be done, allowed them to cool, and at that point Kylo Ren grabbed a container and set the sweets inside. He carried the container as he motioned for you to follow him, and you soon found yourself in one of the training rooms. Needless to say, your confusion only mounted.

Kylo Ren set the container on a small table off to the side. You stared at the cookies within, wondering what he planned to do with them. “Do you want a cookie, (L/n)?” that modulated voice asked.

You shifted your weight onto your left leg, your gaze flickering between the Force user and the sweets. You had smelled them the entire time they were cooking, and yes they looked delicious. Knowing that lying would not do any good with this man, you admitted the truth. “Yes, sir.” He nodded. You were aware in that moment that he had sensed a craving you had been assaulted by since awakening that morning. He was using it to his advantage. Your shoulders slumped.

“Always so intuitive. Your position as the General’s assistant means that both Captain Phasma and I will have to endure your presence. To rely on you not making a mistake, lest we all come under fire.” Kylo Ren lifted the lightsaber from his hip, and you could feel yourself tensing. He did not, however, activate the weapon. “I will start you off on something simple—take this from me before the hour is up.”

 _Ah, crap_ , you thought. If General Hux was a formidable foe when it came to disarming him, the Knight of Ren would be even more so.

You took a shuffling step towards the right then paused. Kylo Ren had not moved in the least, not even his head. You had to remind yourself that he did not require sight to know where you were. That keen sense of his, his ability to sense the Force. Unless you were aggressive as well as cunning in your attempts, you would not be able to take the lightsaber from him. In fact, you doubted it was possible at all. Your eyes slid towards the cookies. You did want one, you really did. And so you lunged towards the man who was currently your teacher. Your forehead met his hand, and he held you at arm’s length.

“That was neither cunning nor aggressive.”

You glowered at him, pulling back and starting to round him. It did not help matters that you were unarmed. Then again, you had heard he possessed the ability to stop a blaster’s shot with his abilities. Releasing a long breath through pursed lips, you assessed your enemy yet again. A calm stance. He knew you were no threat, yet you wanted that damn cookie, and grabbing his weapon from him would be the only way to get one.

Deciding to use his height to your advantage, you ducked when you made for the next tackle. His knee barely missed your nose; you succeeded in putting your arms in front of your face the moment you saw him bend his leg. Still, the impact jarred you, and you fell on your ass. Kylo Ren replaced his foot on the ground. He was not even trying to attack you, which you found almost insulting. Merely defending himself—with such ease that you felt your irritation growing. Baring your teeth, you surged forward again, wrapping your arms around his foot. He did not bother to move it, however he grunted when you leaned up and bit his leg.

“The general is right…you’re like a cat.” The helmet-wearing man took a step to the side, dragging you along seeing that you refused to release him. “This will do nothing to deprive me of my weapon.”

You took your mouth off of him, hooked your fingers in his boot, and tugged in unison with the moment he took another step. You stared at the boot in your hands, and Kylo Ren considered his bootless foot. Without much thought, you chucked his boot at his head and pushed off the ground, making a grab of his lightsaber. The boot _thunked_ harmlessly off his helmet, and the man lifted his hand so that you missed the weapon and instead got air. Not missing a beat, you whipped around, jumping and snatching for his arm. You managed to catch the limb, however you were under the impression that he had let this happen. Were damn sure of it when he lifted his arm to watch you dangle.

You were _amusing_ him. This realization caused you to seethe. You lifted your legs, pressing the soles of your boots on his upper thighs. A static-filled chuckle. If you _had_ been a cat, your ears would have flattened against your head in irritation. As it was, you narrowed your eyes, half-pouted, half-snarled and did what you could to climb the man. When you were nearer to the lightsaber, you lifted one hand to make a grab. He raised his arm so that it was high above his head, which caused you to slide down a little.

“You’re not angry enough, (L/n).” The taunt had you baring your teeth. You moved in for an attack, ignoring the weapon and attempting to elbow him in his mask. He made a circular motion with his arm, turning his head and leaning forward just enough that you were thrown onto your back on the ground. You hissed in pain then watched as the Force user walked around you in a circle. He stared down at you, considering you. “Do not allow your anger to blind you to your objective. Forty-one minutes.”

You rolled onto all fours then stood. Your back still hurt a little, yet you were able to ignore this pain. You swore to yourself that you would not let him get the better of you. You _would_ get his weapon and then enjoy a cookie before the hour was over.

You failed to keep those promises to yourself. Panting, you remained sitting on the ground as Kylo Ren replaced the lightsaber on his hip. He removed his helmet, walked over to the container, and lifted a cookie out of it. Your eyes locked as he took the first bite. Your stomach churned, growling in hunger. Damn him. You should have expected it, but still… When he had finished the cookie, he ran his tongue over the fingers he had used to hold the treat then replaced his helmet.

Lifting up the container, the Force user instructed you to follow him. You huffed, rising and slinking out of the training room after him. It did not take long for the pair of you to arrive on the bridge. A number of the officers regarded the container of cookies curiously. General Hux and Captain Phasma, both of whom were present, also stared. Kylo Ren set the container on a console, careful not to hit anything that would mess with the ship’s functionality. He then gestured to it, telling everyone to grab one. No one dared disobey. You, meanwhile, felt and heard your stomach growling again.

When General Hux grabbed out a cookie, you felt as though he had somehow betrayed you on a personal level. Especially when he was smirking in amusement. He took a bite, and you failed to control your facial features as you had been trained to do. You all-out glared at him and thought: laugh now, but you’re not getting laid tonight, mister!

Captain Phasma, shocking you, removed her helmet long enough to eat a cookie as well. You felt the eyes of all three of the triumvirate on you. Damn were all your superiors dicks.

.

.

You had consoled yourself by thinking that you would buy a cookie when lunch rolled around. You grabbed up your tray, loaded it with food, and placed one such item there before moving towards the register. A floating cookie met your peripheral. You looked down at your tray, now devoid of the treat, then to the left. The cookie returned to its kind. Pressing your lips tightly together, you looked around the room. Sure enough, Kylo Ren was standing by the doorway.

“You failed, (L/n); you do not get a cookie.”

 _How juvenile!_ you thought. Yet another part of your mind was complimenting the man’s brilliance. Because, that part of your brain reasoned, it was incentive to not fail in the future.

Fighting off the small urge to go grab the cookie again—it would be futile and a waste of energy, you well knew—you continued to the register and swiped your card. You were not paying for the food so much as recording that you had grabbed something. It was how the First Order kept track of who was eating and who missed meals. You lifted your tray and walked to one of the tables, plopping down. A form took the seat next to you. You turned, running your eyes up and down the cloaked body. His visor was pointed your way, the man watching you in return.

“We will be returning to Starkiller by tomorrow. Your lessons will continue there.” Even after he had spoken, the Knight of Ren did not move. Enjoying the company, you did not protest. “Tomorrow you should skip breakfast.”

“Huh?” You had started to lift the sandwich you had grabbed, but paused with it halfway to your mouth.

“Due to your position, you will be privy to certain information…” He paused, as though wondering how best to phrase the next portion of what he had to say. “Psychological torture…physical torture… Should the enemy capture you, there is a chance of either. You have been trained against the latter, however—“

“Oh… That mind-probing?” You winced as you said it. Kylo Ren dipped his chin in a single nod. “Will it make me throw up?”

“Indirectly it may.” The screaming you would be doing, you reasoned. The likely headache from the pressure you had heard occurs when he was digging through one’s mind. It was not a pleasant thought. All the while he would be mocking you, using your weaknesses against you. Everyone broke when Ren was interrogating them. He was often used as a last resort, when physical torture did not work against the Resistance members that were captured.

You took a bite of your sandwich, chewing it as you considered what you would be forced to endure. He would break you. But in doing so you would be strong enough to endure what little psychological torture the Resistance could force upon you should you ever be captured. This notion both sickened and comforted you. You never wanted to be a traitor.

“You do not follow through your attacks with another.” You paused with the bite of sandwich in your mouth. Then, blinking, you swallowed. You turned your head so that you could face him. Kylo Ren tilted his head to the side a fraction of an inch. “A single attack is all you tend to do. Follow through with it.”

In a strange way, this explained what he had been doing when he had you help him destroy the console that day. Subsequent strikes with the lightsaber. Usually you merely struck, paused, and looked for another way to attack. It gave the enemy too much time to counterattack, to block you.

“Huh…” No one had ever pointed out this weakness to you. It was not niceness that prompted Kylo Ren to do so. As he had said that morning, your actions on the battlefield were likely to affect those around you. Hesitation could injure or kill more than just you. “So that’s what is meant by being more aggressive.”

“In your case.”

“You know… You’re a good teacher.” He shifted a little in his seat, as though a mixture of embarrassment and pride were flooding through him. It was an interesting sight given who it was that was doing it. His preening almost made him more human to you rather than the untouchable warrior you often viewed him as. With a sigh, you returned your attention to your food. “But I don’t like you right now. I just wanted a cookie.”

“You have to earn it.” Nodding, you swore to yourself that you would earn a cookie the next day.

.

.

But it wasn’t the next day yet, and General Hux was absentmindedly eating a cookie. In front of you. Probably not even realizing what he was doing, seeing as how he had been eating before you had entered the room. His eyes were glued on the report in his lap. The cookie dangled from his mouth as he used both hands to lift up the datapad and scroll through the report. His brows were furrowed, and so you did not say anything that would interrupt him. A large part of you wanted to insult him, yet you would never do so aloud. The general would likely punish you, not in any sort of playful manner either.

Slowly you walked over to the couch on which he was seated and lowered yourself onto the cushion beside him. A grunt was the only indication that he was acknowledging your presence. General Hux read through the remainder of the report, finished up his cookie, and laid the datapad off to the side. He turned his eyes to you, and you flinched at the frown on his face. He was disappointed that you had failed in your objective with your training that morning. He did not have to say so out loud for you to know this to be true.

“On the other hand,” he said, as though continuing that string of your thoughts, “you have proven that you are an exceptional baker.” You said nothing in response. His tone indicated that he was functioning in the capacity of your general. Nothing sexual. His nostrils flared for a moment as he exhaled. “Your sessions are recorded for my benefit. I hadn’t realized how poorly you would do. I find myself baffled—in many ways you were more earnest in your attempts to disarm _me_. Bias should not occur.”

“I understand, sir.”

“Now. Strip.”

“Are… Are you saying that as my general, or…” You had to pause as realization dawned on you that he was _always_ your general, even during sex. Lover seemed too crass a word given his position, yet to say he was your boyfriend would be more demeaning than anything. “Uhm…is this sexual or professional?”

“Yes, (L/n), professionally strip for me.” Though his voice was level, the smirk on his lips revealed the mockery. You felt your features redden.

“Then… Uhm… I don’t want to serve you sexually right now.” You tried to sound firm, yet only half succeeded. General Hux quirked a brow, released a breath through his nose, and picked up the datapad. As though it didn’t matter. You sat there awkwardly, staring at him in slight disbelief. He had opened a new report and was reading through it. Didn’t he care _at all_?

Fine, you thought, two could play at this game. You rose from the couch and headed for the bed that was only a few feet away. Beside it was your datapad. You lifted this, turned it on, and started sorting through the various reports that you needed to either assign to General Hux’s care or else take care of yourself. You soon sank to the edge of the bed, taking a seat as you read. You heard a ding come from the man’s datapad when you forwarded one of the reports to him. He grunted, continued reading the report he was currently taken care of, and tapped his foot twice. When he finished the report, rather than starting on the next, he spoke:

“(Y/n).” You shuddered. The damn merciless bastard was exploiting a weakness of yours. Being tender yet not. Saying your first name. You glared at the back of his head. “Come here.”

You set down your datapad, literally dragging your feet as you made your way over to him. “Sir?”

“You may call me Hux,” he said, not turning to look at you.

You grit your teeth. You would not yield! “No, sir, that’s okay.” You congratulated yourself as you turned and headed back for the bed. Sitting down, you picked up the datapad and resumed your work. When General Hux stood, you followed him with your eyes to the door. “Where are you going?”

“Work, (L/n).”

“The bridge?” You felt your stomach sinking when he cast a look in your direction that said ‘Where else?’ “You’re leaving because I won’t have sex with you?”

“I’m leaving because of the _reason_ you won’t have sex with me. Your juvenile excuse for doing so it—“

“Are you saying I’m petty? Fine, I’m just a petty officer. I—“ You broke off with a snort over the unintentional phrasing, the pun. General Hux, however, was clearly unamused. He continued to frown, staring at you for two seconds longer then turning to face the door again. He exited, and your momentary mirth died.

 _He only wants to be near me when we’re fucking?_ you wondered suddenly. _Or doing work… Or is he mad at me for being mad at him? So what if it seems petty—I have every right to be angry!_

The fact of the matter was, you well knew that any work he had could currently be conducted in the quarters you were sharing with him. He had no reason to visit the bridge other than to stay away from you. You held back a frustrated growl. If he wanted to bury himself in work, then so would you! You sorted through the reports for another two hours before you were left with nothing of importance.

Maybe, you thought, you were being a little _too_ petty. He had called you by your first name, had offered to allow you to call him Hux instead of General or Sir. But what if your assumption that this was merely due to manipulation was fact? And to call you juvenile—your motives, at least. There hadn’t been any need to go that far. The main thing that continued to hurt was that he had left, rather than stay near you. You curled up on the couch and stared at the door. He did not come through.

You ticked off the time in your head as you sat there staring. The more time went by, the more you felt a little sick to your stomach. You were sore from both the punishment where he had belted you and from your training exercise with Kylo Ren. Physically you were exhausted, yet you refused to allow yourself any sleep until your superior returned. Your bottom lip quivered, and you found yourself brushing away the beginnings of tears. Tomorrow Kylo Ren would be probing your mind, attacking you verbally no doubt. Well, you thought, here was something he would likely be using against you.

Pushing off the couch, you stripped out of your uniform and grabbed out a nightshirt. You did not bother to put on any bottoms. You slipped into bed, tugged the blankets over yourself, and stared at the door without turning off the lights. Close to an hour later, the lights in the room shut off as though of their own accord. You frowned, understanding that General Hux likely had a program on his datapad that allowed him to control such things while he was away. You let your eyes wander about the dark room, wondering if he kept cameras as well. With a huff, you pulled the blankets over your head just in case he did; at last you allowed yourself some time to cry.

.

.

“You want him to love you,” Kylo Ren said passively. That in itself was more mocking than any taunting tone he could have assumed. The man’s hand was near your face while you were restrained. You were shaking, not only from his words, but from the probing itself. It felt as though nails were being dragged down your skull. Grating, pressure, scratching. He had been at this for what felt like hours yet could only have been a handful of minutes. You were already crying, and his most current words tore a sob from you. Kylo Ren lowered his hand, and the pain ceased. “This one isn’t recorded.” As though comforting you for but a moment. He again raised his hand, and the pressure returned in full. You screamed, the sound caught in your throat, as he pressed harder, digging deeper, breaking into your mind. Finding your weaknesses and exploiting them.

It dawned on you that you had passed out at some point only when you were opening your eyes. Blinking, your eyelids fluttering. Beside you there was a beeping. Your heartbeat being monitored. With a heavy breath, you started to sit up. You felt a horrible sensation of vertigo and closed your eyes while laying your head back upon the pillow. You heard booted feet walking closer. The sound of something like glass being set on the table beside the bed you were on. You peeked through one eye then opened the second. A plate with a single cookie. Your eyes wandered up the length of the man who was standing at your bedside.

Kylo Ren stared at you for only a second. “You said nothing.” He turned and left. Apparently he hadn’t counted screaming or swearing in pain as saying anything. True, though, you had revealed nothing aloud, nor had you begged for him to stop even though such a plea had been on your tongue several times. It was not only the mind probing that had brought you to tears, but the words he had said as well. The truths he had attempted to use against you. The knowledge he had used to form questions to break you.

_Why would he want you for anything other than sex? You. A mere trainee—do you believe you’re fit for the general? There are many with more to offer._

You reached for the cookie that was on the plate. It suddenly seemed all the more stupid, to have held it against him that he had eaten a cookie in front of you. You trailed your fingers along the edge of the cookie in your grasp. You weren’t hungry for it. All the same, you raised it to your lips and took a nibble. As you lazily chewed, you let your gaze wander. You were in the medical ward on Starkiller base. This made you wonder how long you had been unconscious for.

Within the following two hours you were discharged from medical and taken to your new quarters, which were located near the general’s. Your first instinct was to begin working. You sorted through six reports then set down your datapad. Though it had been for the purpose of training you against those that would wish to truly break you for their benefit, you could not help but ruminate the words Kylo Ren had spoken. What could you possibly offer General Hux that he would want, short of sex and to do your job? With proper training, many could be candidates for the position you were now in.

Lost in thought as you were, you jumped a bit when a low beep emitted from your door seconds before it opened. Genearl Hux stepped through, allowing the door to close behind him before he turned to you. “You’re on medical leave for the next two days—hand me your datapad.” You lifted said item out in offering to the man, who took a step forward and seized it. “Your psychological evaluation will take place tomorrow at 0930.”

“Yes, sir.” You lowered your gaze when he started to leave. “Can you stay?”

“No. There’s work to be done, (L/n).”

“G-General?” A sigh of annoyance from him. You squeezed your eyes closed, waiting for him to reject you further. “Can you fuck me, General?”

“Are you asking me to simply fuck you, (L/n), or are you asking me to fuck you as your General?” He was sneering, no doubt finding your request loathsome. He had never before abused his position above you in such a way.

You swallowed thickly, your voice hardly above a whisper when you replied. “As…my General.” The sound of him setting down your datapad alerted you to his answer. You jumped to your feet when he barked out the order. You felt awkward, not being in your uniform when he was acting in such a capacity. General Hux had his arms crossed behind his back. He tilted his head back a little, staring at you from down the length of his nose. He commanded you to move closer, and you found yourself obeying instantly. You stood at attention, feeling even more like an idiot for not being in uniform.

“Put your hands behind your back, wrists together.” You did so immediately. General Hux strode around you at a leisurely pace, circling twice before pausing in the middle of the third. He was behind your back. You heard a sound, your chest feeling as though it were tightening when you realized he was removing his belt. He looped it around your wrists and tightened the leather until it bit into your flesh. You winced, gritting your teeth to bite back any verbal reaction. “Why is it, (L/n), that you are out of uniform in the middle of the day?” You wanted to respond with the fact that you were on medical leave, yet found yourself rethinking that position. Apparently it took you too long to say anything at all, for his booted feet hit the ground as he rounded you. General Hux stood in front of you, and you remained staring straight ahead, your gaze on his chest. “You were asked a question. I expect an answer.”

You had nearly forgotten how severe he could sound, and you felt your heart starting to race in mild anxiety. “Sir, I… There’s no excuse, General.”

“I suggest you prostrate yourself before me and beg for lenience.” You dropped to your knees immediately then lowered yourself further, bending forward so that your face was near to the ground and between his boots. General Hux did not move, did not say a word. You sucked at nothing for a moment then turned, running your tongue along the length of his boot. “I want it shining, (L/n).” You found the task a little more difficult than any previous time you had done so, what with your hands bound behind you. You ran your tongue along the leather again. A third time. Swiping upwards repeatedly, the tangy test practically overwhelming your senses. “And the other.”

Running your tongue along the roof of your mouth, you shifted on your knees so that you could turn more easily to tend to his other boot. General Hux indicated he was satisfied with your actions by shifting his boot away from you. He pressed the tip of its twin against your chin, lifting his leg so that you were forced to look up at him. “What filthy things have you been doing to be so experienced with that tongue, (L/n)?” Your blush was not fake, not forced in the least. “What sort of lewd behavior do you partake in?” You felt as though fingers were dancing up and down your spine as he spoke to you. “You were asked a question, (L/n)—should you ignore me again, there will be consequences.”

“I… S-sir, I… They’re…indecent acts, General.”

“Are they indeed?” You gingerly nodded. “Come now, (L/n), don’t be so modest. Your ability with that tongue would make a prostitute blush.” You felt your own blush deepening. “What sort of lewd behavior was it now?”

“Se-sexual acts, General.”

“As if I had any doubt. Where do you put that tongue, (L/n)? In some woman’s cunt?” You gawked for a moment when he said that. Then, recovering as he sneered, you shook your head and muttered out a _No, sir_. “Then I assume you enjoy sucking cock, (L/n).”

“Y-yes, General.” General Hux set the sole of his boot against your chest, pressing so that you were higher up on your knees, your face level with his crotch. He cocked his head to the side, as though waiting. “I… I enjoy sucking cock, sir.”

A slight smirk of approval at your words then he sneered again. “What sort of skill set is that for an officer? What use does your General have for your ability to suck cock?” You gulped down some air, unsure how to answer. The redhead uncrossed his arms from behind his back and set one hand to your throat. He squeezed lightly, just enough that you felt the threat of your air supply getting cut off. “Show me that tongue of yours, (L/n).” You slipped said organ out from between your lips. “Don’t be so modest now. Open wide.” Without pulling your tongue back in, you spread your lips and opened your mouth widely.

The hand that was not on your throat went to the front of his pants. He parted the front enough so that he was able to withdraw his semi-erect cock. This he held in his hand, his thumb rubbing up and down its length, back and forth for a moment as he considered you. You kept your mouth open, your tongue out, despite that you could feel saliva dripping down, onto the floor below. General Hux shifted a single step closer, rolling his wrist so that his cock hit against your tongue a single time. He paused, watched you, and repeated the action.

“I seem to remember a few seconds ago you were able to use that tongue, (L/n).” You flexed your tongue against his cock when again he repeated his previous actions. You grazed his slit, and the man’s jaw tensed. “Is this all you have to offer, (L/n)? I’m hardly impressed. Or were you merely lying to your General?”

“No, sir, I wasn’t lying,” you said quickly. You then opened your mouth again and stuck out your tongue. General Hux flexed his wrist once more, and this time you wrapped your tongue around his cock as it descended upon the organ. You leaned forward, sealing your lips over the head of his erection. You strained for a moment against the belt, having forgotten that it was binding your wrists until you tried to reach for him. Not letting this deter you from pleasuring the man, you pressed forward so that you could swallow more of him. He did not buck his hips a single time; you, on the other hand, eagerly began bobbing your head and sucking him. You pressed your tongue up against his shaft, undulating it then flattening it as you shifted forward on your knees even more. You moaned around his cock, feeling it pressing closer and closer to the back of your throat.

“I hadn’t realized you were so eager to please me, (L/n),” General Hux taunted, removing his hand from your throat so that you could more easily take his entire cock into your mouth. You lifted your eyes to him, watching as he crossed his hands behind his back and stared down at you. So fucking professional, and here you were on your knees with his cock in your mouth. It made you unbelievably wet, made you forget any worries you had previously been entertaining. You hummed around him, hardly realizing that it was one of the tunes you had been made to sing during the beginnings of your training when you had joined the First Order. General Hux’s lips parted at the sound, at the feel of the vibrations pleasuring him.

You pulled back from him, his cock slipping out of your mouth with a wet popping noise. Immediately you were suckling along him, running your tongue up and down then making your way back to the head of his erection. You flicked it with your tongue before descending upon him again.

“You clearly are enjoying yourself, (L/n). What a dirty _girl_ you are,” he said, stepping backwards so that he was no longer in your mouth. You blinked, unsure how to react to him. Once more was his boot on your chest, this time pushing you backwards so that you fell into a sprawled position. You wiggled a little, straightening your legs, which were soon kicked so that they were apart enough that General Hux could stand between them with his legs slightly parted. “Dressed in only a shirt and your panties. Is this how you dressed while completing your basic training? Did you suck your instructors’ cocks? Let them bend you over their desks so that they could _fuck_ you?”

“N-no, General.”

“I see. Then is it for _my_ benefit that you’re wearing practically _nothing_?”

Feeling a little emboldened by all his teasing, by the sight of his reddened member, you said, “Yes, General.”

“You want to be fucked by your General, (L/n)?”

“Y-yes, General. Please, General.”

General Hux shifted so that he was no longer between your legs. He hooked one of his boots underneath you, lifting so that the toe pushed you up into a sitting position. You maneuvered yourself back onto your knees then stood when he commanded you to do so. His next action was to order you to lie on your back on the middle of your bed. This you did so, laying your head on your pillow as the redhead reached under your shirt and snatched at the hem of your panties. He tore them off of you, tossing them to the side before moving to climb atop you.

Underneath yourself, you grabbed at the blankets with your bound hands. You released an _oomph_ when General Hux grabbed the pillow out from under your head. He tore off the pillowcase, lifted you by the shoulder, and removed his belt before sliding your arms into the pillowcase. Before you could react, he had you flipped onto your stomach, the belt now around your neck in a similar manner to how it had been on your wrists. He tugged, causing you to choke. General Hux loosened the belt only a little, enough to prevent you from choking again. Before you could grow accustomed to the feeling of the leather digging into your neck, he positioned himself at your entrance and entered you.

The force at which he did so caused the air to rush from your lungs. The mattress squeaked, and the metal frame of the bed hit against the wall. Had there been a headboard, it would have been a louder sound. As it was, the noise still left you flustered. “I hadn’t realized you would be so wet for me, (L/n). You really are eager to please your General, aren’t you?” He was fucking you roughly, none the bit concerned about your pleasure. The belt dug into your neck more tightly as he yanked on the end of it.

“Y-y…” He loosened his hold on the leather. “Yes, General.” With his free hand, the redhead drew up your shirt and traced down your spine. The way his glove ghosted over your flesh as goosebumps forming all along your body. Your bodies were meeting with noisy smacks, and you were breathing heavily while he grunted. “Al-always so eager to please you, General. Always so wet for you, sir.” You pressed against the sides of the pillowcase that was on your arms, fighting the urge to struggle free and pleasure yourself. “This is such an honor, sir.”

“What is an honor, (L/n)?”

“Being fucked by you, sir. Having your cock in me, General.” His breathing had started to quicken, and he was evidently spurred on by your words. He released a swear as he came inside you. You moaned, pressing back against him as his hips stilled. You rocked into him until you felt a hand on your back, holding you in place as he withdrew.

The sounds of clothing being rearranged. He wasn’t going to—you realized that yes, he was. General Hux grabbed his belt off your neck, finished redressing himself, and then freed you of the pillowcase. You turned to him, blinking.

“I expect to see you in proper uniform, (L/n).”

“Uh… Yes, sir.” As you were replying, he had moved to retrieve your datapad. You sat there dumbly as he exited your room. The bastard hadn’t even let you cum! You huffed, dropping one of your newly freed hands to your lap so that you could finish yourself off.

When you were done, you went into the refresher then dressed in fresh panties and another shirt. You then laid on the bed, staring up at the ceiling. A ringing from your commlink.

“(L/n) speaking.”

A static sort of pause at first then: “That is not a proper greeting, (L/n).”

“Sorry, sir.”

“Next time I’ll allow for a happy-medium.”

“You’re saying you’ll let me cum, General?” you asked, keeping your voice low. You were under the impression that he was nearby others, what with his semi-vague responses.

“Affirmative, (L/n).”

“When you called me ‘girl’…were you going to throw out something else there? Something more degrading?”

“That is correct.”

“Like…slut?” You narrowed your eyes in suspicion, smiling a little.

“Approximately.”

“Whore?”

“Yes, (L/n).”

“I appreciate that you didn’t, sir.”

“Agreed. Now, as I stated previously, you are on medical leave. Do not concern yourself with any reports. Your meals will be taken to you as well. Your sole duty is to rest so that you can return to your normal duties in two days.”

“Yes, sir. Uhm…will you…will you come by later?”

“Any utensils you require will be brought.”

What the—? “Er…spooning?”

“Affirmative. Your ability to comprehend such things is refreshing. All things have already been taken care of.”

“If you’re asking if I masturbated after you left then the answer is: of course, sir.”

“Very well. I will look over the report. Follow instructions and rest.”

“See you later.” He clicked off, and you allowed yourself a smile. In his own way, he did seem to care about you on more than just a sexual or professional level.


	16. At the Limit

At the Limit

You’re lying on your belly with your legs curled, wiggling your feet in the air when General Hux enters your room. You hum out a light greeting without lifting your eyes from your book. Twiddling your thumbs and doing nothing wasn’t your forte. You found yourself nearly always researching something or another; always wanting to learn more. Thus you were surprised yourself that such a novel as the one you were reading could hold your attention. It was one of the few approved by the First Order of its nature. Of the romance genre, a number of the other female officers and trainees had been seen reading it. You had held off for so long, yet with the absence of your datapad, there had been little else to do. The writing was hardly the best, yet there was something charming about the protagonist.

General Hux caught one of your ankles in his hand, rubbing it gently as he peered over your shoulder to see what you were reading. You could feel his gaze, and you shifted your body to obscure the book. A part of you wondered if he would mock you. He undoubtedly had seen the title atop one of the pages you were reading, however, for he remarked:

“Sometimes it slips my mind that you might do anything so…feminine.”

“Should I substitute that final word for ‘useless’, sir?” He trailed his hand down your leg before walking his fingers up your thigh and pausing directly before the hem of the shirt you wore. You lowered your feet to the bed, and the next moment were rewarded by him climbing atop you. Genearl Hux held his weight off of you by bracing himself on his forearms, which he had placed beside yours. He did not answer your inquiry, and you could sense that his eyes were considering the words upon the page you were currently reading. You grabbed for your bookmark, slid it within, and then tossed the book off to the side.

“Look at me, (L/n).”

“I’d rather not, sir.”

“Why were you crying?” he asked, and you sighed in response whilst shaking your head. You did not wish to tell him that you had had a flashback to the psychological torture you had endured at the hands of Kylo Ren. Your training was more extreme than you had realized, and you now fully understood why it was you had been placed on medical leave and were to complete a psychological evaluation the following day. The redhead reached around you, touching his left hand to your right cheek. His thumb pressed against your lips, and you sucked the digit inside, nipping at the leather. “The greatest of soldiers break under Ren’s interrogation… It does not surprise me—your current state.”

“I hate being…weak in your eyes.” A light laugh from him, and you relaxed a little. The words he had just spoken replayed in your mind, and you realized that he was complimenting you. You had said nothing during your interrogation by Ren. Yes, you had cried. You had sobbed, screamed, and wished for things to end. But you had given him no vocal answers, had not even begged him to stop. This was perhaps why you had passed out, why you had been in the medical ward. Had you been a prisoner, the interrogation would have continued the moment you had awoken, you knew. Yet they did not wish to truly break you here; it was merely training. You lifted a hand to touch the limb that was on your cheek while releasing the thumb from your mouth. “It was…terrifying, sir.” Your voice was nearly breathless. “How long can you stay?”

“Ninety-minutes at most.” He had set his hand on your arm, his arm wrapped around you in a light hold. General Hux pressed his weight onto the elbow of his other arm, lifting its hand and touching your hair. “We were interrupted when last I used the riding crop…” His voice trailed off in thought, and you heard a light noise come from his throat simultaneous to him shifting. He was watching you, gauging your reaction. The interruption had come in the form of your parents’ injuries, the call that had so shocked you everything had come rushing forward. You had been sent back to training, a thought that caused you to tense in the slightest. “Perhaps next time?”

“Yes, sir.” You chewed on your bottom lip for a few seconds before releasing it to ask, “Where… Where do you get the…uh…toys, sir?”

“The store, (L/n). Where else?” You rolled your eyes at his teasing. “The missions given to me by Supreme Leader take me many places.”

“Who… Who else did you… With the toys—who else?”

“They’re all new, save the riding crop, collars and leash. There isn’t much time to use the others, (L/n). I’m a busy man.” In other words, he did not want to waste his time seeing what someone would object to. A quick fuck, maybe a little bit of fun here and there. You blushed at the implication; he had purchased the other toys with you in mind. “You’re so compliant, always so eager… Although, (L/n), when you kissed me that first time, I didn’t know what to make of you. So indecent—inappropriate. What were you thinking?”

“I…don’t know. Your breath was so warm, and I… I couldn’t focus on anything else.” That hot breath hit your neck. You knew he was doing this on purpose, and you trembled underneath him. “Uh… General?”

“I hadn’t even considered you as a woman until you kissed me. Just another soldier. But you captured my attention. Held it when you continued to excel in your training. Your incompetence at disarming me was astounding—so catlike. Climbing up my body. And yet you pissed your pants—am I _that_ scary, (L/n)?”

“You…you were shooting a-a-at me, sir.” Your breath hitched, his lips ghosting over the flesh of your neck. “You’re hard to read… It was scary.”

He chuckled. “Yet your training needed to be completed. Acclimating you… Anyone would have taken advantage of that, the way you were clinging to my body. Rutting against me, so desperate for heat. Arousal to give you that heat… A spanking meant to remind you that it wasn’t for pleasure itself—yet you surprised me. You _liked_ it, (L/n). I had to make you put your ass in the air again to keep from grinding against me, to keep you from seeing how _hard_ you were making me.”

You were beginning to breathe heavily, felt yourself growing wet at his words. General Hux sealed his lips around your throat, suckling then planting more innocent kisses that soon devolved into something more erotic as he traced his tongue along you. You tilted your head to the side to allow him better access. You closed your eyes, relishing the moment. He stopped, his lips still puckered against you for two more seconds before he pulled away.

“It was difficult to tell the reason you were so willing, and so when Petty Officer Orv was attempting to garner your attention… I truly did believe you were so compliant to further your career or thought that perhaps you had an authority kink.”

“Well…” A chuckle. You could not deny that it aroused you, the way he carried himself. His authoritative tone. General Hux raised himself onto his hands, allowing you to turn over before he settled back against you. You stared up into his face, which, as usual, was unreadable. “Did… The reason you started to personally train me…was it for this position?”

“How do you mean?”

“Well, sir, I understand that the first time… That was because of the coffee and your boot, but… After you discovered that I hadn’t been properly trained or acclimated to Starkiller, you could have assigned someone else to do so. There was no need for _you_ to be training me personally—you’ve more important things to do, sir.”

“It was, (L/n). You’re observant, as always. Following that incident, I further delved into your academic history. You seemed fit for the position, however I wanted to ensure that this would ring true in all respects. Which is why I was all the more disappointed when you refused to divulge the recipe, however we remedied that…only for you to kiss me.” His lips quirked, his eyes practically glinting as he ground his hips into yours. You whimpered, spreading your legs so that he was more flush against you. “Though the interrogation was not recorded, Ren did reveal to me that you have had nightmares regarding the execution… Your first kill. I know where your loyalties lie, (L/n), don’t shrink from me.” He set the back of his hand on your cheek, stroking downwards.

General Hux rolled off of you, lying on his side and turning you so that your back was to his chest. You could feel him watching you as the two of you continued to lie there. Your mind was wrapped in many thoughts, most of which consisted of the words he had spoken. You had been being groomed for the position since the start of General Hux’s training sessions with you. He truly did not allow sentiment to get in the way of his decision; you had occasionally entertained the notion that you had been assigned the position in part due to your relationship with the man. Apparently this was not so, which comforted you. Suddenly all his precautions made more sense.

Spooning with him right there, a longing for a greater depth in your relationship stirred again. You sighed. General Hux shifted, grunting as he continued to watch you. You had to resist the urge to grab his arm and wrap it more tightly around you. You feared how he would react; though you were aware that on some level he cared for you, you somehow doubted he was looking for a conventional relationship. Soon you fell asleep, and when you awoke, you were alone on the bed.

In the morning you completed the psychological evaluation, which resulted in you having an extra day of medical leave as well as hourly check-ins. These annoyed you, interrupting the time you were taking to conduct research or exercise. Despite being off duty, you still visited the training rooms and used a dummy to begin practicing follow-up attacks. Some of the officers spoke with you, while others watched but said nothing. You could feel a certain level of contempt from a number of them. You were a trainee yet had secured such a position. What was more, you were female. You did not miss the way some of the men sneered, the way some of them eye-fucked you so hard that you knew they would want to get you alone and put you in a more submissive position.

Those stares dropped immediately when Kylo Ren entered the training area. You paused, turning and greeting him. He nodded and, without a word, gestured for you to continue. You felt a little awkward continuing to train with the man assessing you. This unease in you grew when the Knight of Ren began to pace, his visor always pointed your way.

“Don’t hold back.”

You braced your foot against the ground to allow for a harder strike against the dummy. You then performed a second attack immediately, subsequently a third then fourth. You stumbled at the fifth. Feeling your cheeks heating in embarrassment, you were thankful that you were already a little flustered from the workout. You tried again, this time succeeding in a fifth attack.

“Don’t drop your guard.”

You thought back to the attacks you had performed. At least two of them had left several openings where your opponent could have had you on your back. Remembering all your training, you repeated your attacks, however this time focused on both defensive and offensive elements. Kylo Ren paused in his pacing, observing you without making a remark. You looked towards him after several more attack sequences.

“Was that better, sir?”

“Yes.” A head tilt on his part. “You haven’t been cleared for work yet.”

“I want to get better…and I’m trying to keep my mind off things, sir.”

“I see. Captain Phasma wishes to speak with you. Report to her immediately.” He rattled off her location in a dismissive tone then turned and left.

You put away the materials you had used to train before heading towards the designated location. The chrome-armored soldier was watching a recording of a number of her stormtrooper cadets running through a simulation. She paused the video when you entered, and you stood at attention in front of her. You felt more than a little amount of surprise running through you when she reached up and removed her helmet. The blonde-haired woman considered you for several seconds before speaking.

“While your dedication is admirable, you must obey the command to relax. No training. If need be, dress in civilian clothing.” You lowered your eyes to the floor. “There is a mini event for officers tonight. You’re cleared to attend.”

.

.

You were beginning to wish you had foregone dressing up and attending the event. It was formal, the officers present all dressed their best. Women with their hair done up, much like yours was. Make-up. Men in suits. Some spoke with you, while others pretended you weren’t there. You found your eyes constantly drawn to where some were dancing together. You wanted to dance, yet whom would you ask? And perhaps the officer you asked would be insulted; men here seemed to take the initiative in such situations. You watched as another male officer escorted a female onto the dance floor.

Some of your superiors attended the event. They were dressed in their uniforms, and you turned to watch them socialize. It took you a moment to realize that the general was present as well. He was speaking with one of your other superiors. His eyes scanned the crowd, you included, and he turned back to the man. Then his gaze flew back up, landing on you. You dropped your eyes to the floor, turning away. He had never seen you dressed up, you remembered.

His voice filled your head. _Sometimes it slips my mind that you might do anything so…feminine._

You started to weave your way deeper into the crowd. This task came to a halt when a male officer stepped up to you, addressing you. You paused, a little shocked when he asked if you wanted to dance. You did, and yet…

And yet, why not?—this flowed through your head as you nodded, allowing the officer to lead you over to the dance floor. He wrapped one arm around you, setting his hand on your back while using his other hand to take up yours. You allowed him to lead you in the dance, your eyes on his shoulder. You danced with a new partner when the first was tapped on the shoulder by another. Then a third. Your mind was spinning a little, and you were a bit overwhelmed. You could not help but hold a suspicion that some were dancing with you solely because of your position as the General’s assistant.

When one of your superiors was the one to tap your dancing partner on the shoulder, you felt your heart race a little in your chest. You were tense when the man began dancing with you, however you forced yourself to relax as the song continued to play. You were passed around between your peers and superiors as the night wore on, and it took you several seconds before you realized that the man you were dancing with was leading you towards the edge of the dance floor where General Hux was waiting.

“(L/n).” A clipped greeting, and you managed a respectful response. He was frowning, which made it hard for you to look him in the eye. “Perhaps you should rest.”

“Uhm… Yes… Yes, sir.” You broke away from the dance floor and found a seat at a vacant table. General Hux followed and stood nearby. Someone came by with a cup of water as well as two flutes full of champagne. General Hux plucked up one of the latter, while the rest were set on the table before you. You took a drink of the water then lifted the champagne and sipped it.

Soon there were not many people nearby, and that was when General Hux spoke; when no one could eavesdrop. “Enjoying yourself, are you?”

“Yes,” you said, then added on, “sir.” You attempted to meet his gaze, only to lower your eyes again upon seeing that his frown had not left.

“You should take into consideration your position. Many would take advantage of you, (L/n), especially given that you are so openly allowing—“

“Sorry, sir,” you muttered out, cutting him off due to the fact that you wished he would stop. Any feeling of pleasure you had managed to derive from being treated as a woman—just a plain woman, not a trainee or the General’s Assistant—had disappeared. “Captain Phasma suggested I relax, and… I took it too far, sir.”

“Yes… Perhaps you should retire for the night.”

“I…” You were suddenly frustrated. Was he sending you away because he did not want you dancing with other men? He could just as easily dance with you if he was so frustrated! But no, you realized, he wouldn’t because he was the _General_ and his title meant _everything_ to him. You pressed your lips tightly together. “I’m fine, sir.”

You rose, setting down your glass and heading back towards the dance floor. In your peripheral you could see the redhead stiffen, however you ignored this and accepted the first offer at a dance that you received. Though you tried to avoid looking his way, as you danced you were occasionally turned to where you could see General Hux. Oftentimes he was watching you, his face not quite neutral. You could see contempt, and you would avert your attention from him. Why should you have to miss out just because he didn’t want to dance, you thought.

Of course, you reflected, that hadn’t meant you wanted him to ignore you for the following six days. Save for when you were sending him reports or he needed something from you, he did not speak to you. Even then it was predominately through the messaging system that he relayed his messages. You used your irritation to fuel you in your training with Kylo Ren, who eventually refrained from holding back punches your way. You were bruised underneath your uniform, but a large part of you did not care.

“Sir,” you said, standing before General Hux. “This report—“

“Send it my way. I’ll take care of it, (L/n).” That dismissive tone; he did not want to deal with you. And when he turned his back to you, you knew it would be insubordinate to continue speaking with him. You mentally swore then turned on your heel and left.

It was another three days before he visited you in your quarters. “Why were you speaking with Officer Jivar?” You blinked at him, opting not to answer. “I asked you a question, (L/n).”

“We were socializing, _sir_ ,” you said scathingly. “It was lunch time. Am I not allowed to socialize, sir?”

“Not when you are eight minutes late to work as a result. Watch your tone, (L/n).”

It took all you had in you not to yell at him right there. “Yes, sir.” He continued to stand there, staring at you. “Is there something you need, General?”

“I am here to inform you that your probation has been extended.” You furrowed your brow. “You disobeyed me.”

“I… When did I… Sir?”

“I distinctly remember telling you to retire for the night.”

Your eyebrows rose and you swore aloud. Before he could reprimand you, however, you shook your head and shot out with, “That was _not_ during work!”

“I am _always_ your General regardless whether or not you are in uniform, (L/n)! I have repeatedly informed you that as my assistant your actions also reflect upon _me_. Dancing with any and everyone who asks… You must control yourself!”

“If it’s such a big deal, _General_ , then why didn’t you just dance with me? Or is it beneath you? To dance with the lowly—“

“Watch. Your. Tongue.” It was then that you noticed his hands were fists, trembling. You felt fear grip at you, and you backed down from the verbal altercation. “Stop your crying!”

“Please just leave,” you said, wiping at the tears that were spilling down your face. “It… It won’t happen again, sir.”

“(L/n)—“

“I don’t want to have sex with you anymore either… I’ll just be your assistant. And you can be my General. I get it.” He reached towards you, and you took a step back. Then, finding that you could not stop your crying, you faced away from him. “Please just leave.”

Instead he wrapped one arm around your midsection and tugged you against him. A strange sort of embrace that left you wondering if he even knew how to be tender. “That isn’t what I meant.”

“I’m at my limit, okay? Just go.” You pushed at his arm with both hands, however it wouldn’t budge. You sobbed, your fingertips digging into his flesh as your entire body quivered. “Please! You said… You said know my limits, and I can’t… Go away!”

“I’ve never seen you so fragile, (L/n).” His voice was quieter than ever, and you could barely hear his words above your sobbing. “It was meant professionally, not as a personal attack.”

“Then why ignore me?” you yelled out, your voice cracking.

A heavy sigh then his other arm was wrapped around you near your chest, tugging you closer to him as he set his nose against your hair. General Hux placed his mouth by the side of your head. “That part _was_ personal.” You shook your head, not following him. “Do you know how _frustrating_ it is, watching you enjoying yourself with those men as you dance? How _unnerving_ it is to realize that…” You reached up and held onto the arm that was near your chest. You were still crying, though your sobbing had died down. “I want to fuck you until you can’t walk again. Keep you in my quarters, waiting for _me_.” He was beginning to grind against you as he spoke, and you felt your body reacting to the stimulation.

General Hux removed his arms from you so that he was able to seize hold of your upper arm and lead you out of your quarters. You soon entered his, the man immediately setting about to tugging off your clothes. You were confused, emotional still. Trying to figure out if he had truly been close to admitting that his feelings for you were deeper than you had thought. Than he had thought apparently. Yet you were finding thinking increasingly hard, especially when he retrieving the riding crop and shoved you to your knees with your legs a bit spread. When he brought that crop against your cunt, striking your clitoris then brushing back and forth. Your mouth formed an _o_ of pleasure, and he withdrew himself from his pants, thrusting inside. One hand on the back of your head, the other bringing the crop against you again. Three times in rapid succession. You bucked your hips then rocking against the object when he started to rub you with it again.

A flick of his wrist. You moaned around his cock, lifting your hands and jerking him with one hand while the other you used to play with his sac. You were a mewling mess, so much so that you heard Millicent responding from her curled-up position. General Hux tossed aside the riding crop, pulling out of your mouth and pushing you onto your back so that he was able to climb between your legs. There was something desperate in his movements. Something nearly out of control—and you marveled over the fact that he had, in some way, just lost his composure. His mouth was on yours as he started to fuck you. He would not stop kissing you, and you sloppily returned the kisses while at the same time you found that you had to turn your head to get much needed air.

He shuddered as he came inside you, and you gasped out in orgasm shortly thereafter. You remained underneath him, the both of you panting. General Hux lifted a hand towards your face, brushing with his thumb along the tearstains that were present. “That’s not what I meant,” he muttered. You closed your eyes, burying your face in the crook of his neck. “Appearance-wise… Should someone believe that I—“

“I know,” you mumbled from your position. You reached up, wrapping your arms around him. “I just… I…really… I really like…you, and…”

“Shh.” He had tensed, though not nearly as much as you had believed he would at your admission. You tried to move to see his face, however General Hux kept you secure against himself in a way that would not allow you to do so. He held you more tightly, almost desperately. “You don’t have to cry, (L/n).”

“I was…scared. You’ve never… I’ve never made you…angry like that… Sir.”

“It wasn’t anger, (L/n)… It was frustration.” You could feel his heart beating against you with how tightly the two of you were pressed together. It wasn’t quite racing, yet it was not beating as it regularly did. And he wouldn’t let go of you.

You released a deep breath through your nose and closed your eyes. “Don’t fuck me until I can’t walk.”

“I won’t.”

“I have a lot of work to do, sir.”

“I know.”

“And Kylo Ren wouldn’t take that as an excuse to stop training…he’d make me crawl.” A snort above you. “It isn’t funny, sir… You’re all… All three of you are—“ His mouth silenced you then he stood, pulling you to your feet as well. “I don’t want you to stop… I don’t want to stop having sex with you.”

“I know, (L/n). I wouldn’t have brought you in here otherwise—that would be rape.” You blinked, looking at his face, which was under his full control. You believed with all your being that he had not allowed you to see his face because it hadn’t been under his control a few moments ago. He lowered his eyes to the ground for half a beat then raised them to your face. The man withdrew from you, and you stood there feeling rather dumb. The sound of a click then soft music playing. You blinked twice. “Come here.”

You awkwardly moved over to him, allowed him to put his uniform top on you so that he was dressed in only pants and his undershirt. He then took up your arms, moving them into a proper position as he took the first step. Your cheeks heated up. Biting your bottom lip, you rested your head against him and closed your eyes, allowing him to lead.


	17. Tap Out

Tap Out

Fresh meat on Starkiller base made you realize that you had forgotten how masculine General Hux could look dressed in his greatcoat and hat as he barked orders. Verbally humiliated the new officers, who did what they could to not flinch. They obeyed everything unquestioningly. And, as you stood beside him in the capacity of his assistant, all you could think about was your desire to have him bend you over and take you right there. Damn the cold. Damn the shocked expressions that would arise on the faces of the officers. Public sex had never been your thing, yet suddenly… Suddenly it seemed like a _very_ appealing idea.

“Are you eye-fucking me?” the redhead shouted, and you jumped as your eyes widened. “Urlin!” The officer tensed, shrinking. “I asked you a question!”

“N-no, sir!”

“Where should your eyes be?”

“Y-your ch-chest, sir!”

“Where _were_ they?” General Hux took a step closer to the trembling officer, who fought to control himself. “Where were they, Officer Urlin?”

“L-lower, s-s-s-sir. And…on…on…y-your…f-face, sir.”

“Wandering about my body, Urlin?” he snapped—and damn if you were not getting turned on as your mind wandered back to when he had spoken to you this way. When he had fucked you as your General, not caring for your pleasure in the least.

“S-sir… Yes, sir,” Officer Urlin said, his face stained red. You could not help but feel a little sorry for the man. He was no longer marching in place to keep warm in the ever-cold weather on the base.

“Drop, Urlin.” The young man did so immediately. “Count aloud.” General Hux placed his boot on the man’s ass after Officer Urlin completed the first pushup. “Don’t display your ass, Urlin. I may be inclined to _shoot_ it.”

“Sir, I won’t, sir!” Urlin called out. “Two! Three!” Though he had readjusted his stance, the boot was not moved from off him. “Twenty!”

“(L/n)!”

“Sir!” you responded, barely able to refrain from jumping at the sound of your name coming from his lips.

General Hux slid his gaze to you as he at last removed his boot from the officer. “Have any of these been proper pushups?” You had hoped for Urlin’s sake that your superior had missed the fact that his legs were just a little too far apart, his hands too close together due to the cold.

“N-no, General.” You hated yourself a little bit, yet you would not tell a lie that would not only increase General Hux’s ire with the new officer, but direct his anger onto you as well.

“Show these officers what proper pushups look like.” Dismissive, almost bored. You held back a sigh at his tone. Urlin rose to his feet, went back into line, and watched as you lowered yourself onto the ground. You proceeded to do five pushups, counting aloud. Getting ready to stand, you grit your teeth at the feeling of a foot on your middle back, keeping you from doing so. “Fifteen more, I recall, (L/n).”

Swearing in your head, you obeyed the redhead. All eyes were on you, and you loathed every minute of it. Especially when his foot shifted from your back to hook under your stomach and flip you over. He positioned himself at your feet and tilted his head to the side a fraction of an inch.

“Are you cold, (L/n)?”

“No, sir!” you responded from where you laid.

“Do these men appear to be cold to you?” Your eyes slid over to the shivering officers, all four of which were strangers to the climate. “Warm them up, (L/n).” Your eyes bulged before you could catch yourself. “Is there a problem with my order, (L/n)?”

You really wished he would stop saying your name. “N…no, General.” You moved to your feet then walked to the first of the officers. “Gather wood.” You turned to another of them. “You, with him.” The two scurried over to collect a number of fallen branches and twigs. They were not long, and when they returned you instructed the remaining two to place the gathered materials into an appropriate pile. As they did so, you dropped to one knee and set about to igniting a spark with the wood and a rock you had lifted from the ground beside you.

When the fire was going, all four of the shivering officers pressed close to the flame. You, meanwhile, stood beside the general, who observed the men with an air of indifference. They seemed to forget, from time to time, that all their actions were under scrutiny.

It was later in the evening when you forgot that you were being watched at all times as well. You had music playing in the background, swaying to the beat while you wore nothing aside from your bra and panties. You hadn’t heard the door open, did not know how long you had been being watched—and all at once you were tackled to the ground. You released a light shriek, immediately moving to defend yourself. Your wrists were caught up in a single hand and pinned above your head. You stopped fighting when a familiar hot breath hit your ear.

“Never let your guard down, (L/n).” As he spoke, General Hux ground himself against you. The man leaned back so that you could see his face. Though he was no longer wearing a hat, he still donned the greatcoat. Always working, you thought as you trembled underneath him. His mouth was upon yours, his lips sealing around yours repeatedly then his tongue thrusting past them. Whimpering, you allowed him to dominate your mouth, though not without a small fight first. He easily managed to press your tongue into submission then rolled the tip of his own along the roof of your mouth.

You turned your head, kept your hands in place when he relinquished his hold, and blinked a number of times. “I…was so…ready…to hear you make Urlin…howl like a cat in heat.”

“You would be,” he muttered, seizing your jaw with the hand that had previously held your wrists and jerking you so that you were looking him dead in the eye. “I don’t know who was eye-fucking me harder, (L/n)—Urlin or you.”

“Oh, my eyes were riding you pretty hard, sir,” you said, blushing the next moment. You had never spoken to him in such a way. Yet he was smirking down at you, clearly enjoying it. Then, however, you got sidetracked. “Was he just surprised about you…or was he really eye-fucking you?”

“Don’t concern yourself with such things. I would rather not consider the men who waste their time with such fantasies.”

“I would be one of those men if I were male, sir,” you said honestly.

It must have caught him off guard, for he closed his mouth and did not respond immediately. Then: “(L/n)…I have _no_ interest in men on a sexual level.”

“Well…what if I was a really sexy boy…and, I mean, you like my ass, so… You know.”

“No, (L/n), I do _not_ know.”

“General?”

“Hmm? Yes, (L/n)?”

“I think you do know.” It was more than visible that he resisted rolling his eyes, and you giggled underneath him. “You seem very relaxed, sir.”

“Yes. Fresh air does the body good, or so I am told. Which is why—get dressed.”

“Are…are we going to have sex outside, sir?”

“Naturally, (L/n).”

“But…but it’s warm in here, sir.”

“We’ll fuck here as well, you needn’t worry about that.” General Hux pulled himself off of you as he spoke. He stood and stared down at your scantily clad body. You rolled onto your stomach then got to your feet so that you were able to grab clothing. “He doesn’t hold back, I see.” Knowing he was making a comment in regards to the bruises you had been given during your training with Kylo Ren, you made a noncommittal noise. In some respects, the Knight did hold back. He mostly remained on the defensive, although that also meant striking you from time to time. According to your teacher, you were slowly improving.

General Hux took you deeper into the forest than previous, commenting that he did not want to chance being interrupted. New officers on Starkiller meant more training exercises would be occurring. You did not protest in the least, your mouth much more preoccupied with his. The two of you started against a tree then finished on the ground; your back drenched by the cold snow against it. True to his word, the redhead then took you back indoors, where the pair of you shared a shower. He would not stop touching you, perhaps _could not_.

Between fondling and fucking you, General Hux scrolled through reports on his datapad. From time to time he would send orders via the commlink. One such time, you had to bite down on a pillow to keep your moans down. 

“S-sir?” you half-moaned, half-whined as he suckled your neck. A grunt of acknowledgment. “I’m… I’m tapping out.” As though to emphasize your words, you literally tapped a hand against the edge of the table across from his couch.

“(L/n),” he said plainly, drawing back to stare down at you.

You sighed and shook your head. “It’s not that I don’t _want_ to… But… We’ve… Like seven times already, sir.”

“Hux is adequate.” He pressed his lips tightly together as he drifted off into thought for several seconds. “Very well. I suppose it is time for dinner.” General Hux rose from you, grabbed the pair of pants that were hanging over the chair, and tugged them on before heading to the kitchen.

“Uhm…Hux?” you called. He paused. “Do you want me to cook?”

“I would prefer you sort through more of the reports. There is already an astounding amount of work for me to take care of beginning tomorrow morning… I don’t want anything unnecessary in my inbox.”

“Of course.” You scooted up, grabbing your datapad from the table and beginning to do exactly what he had instructed. You blinked when you realized that you had a message from your teacher. Kylo Ren informed you that there would be a hiatus in your training while he left on a mission for Supreme Leader. You made a mental note to practice all the same, especially some of the offensive strategies that had been suggested to you by the Knight. You composed a brief reply in order to acknowledge that you had received his message. Whether or not he cared if you responded, you were not certain.

There were thirty-three reports for you to sort through. Some of them, as General Hux had implied, were things that really should not have been sent his way to begin with. You filtered through these, a few of which you forwarded to the correct supervisors, and read through a number of the more important reports. One was still easily taken care of, however the rest you sent to the general. As you read, you could smell the meal he was cooking. Your stomach grumbled hungrily.

Millicent waltzed into the living room area and sat beside the chair. She stared at you. You peeked up from your datapad on three separate occasions to find that she had not moved in the least. It was only when General Hux entered with two plates in his hand that she jumped onto the chair and curled up. You grabbed a blanket, wrapping yourself up in it and accepting the plate of food.

“Thank you,” you said, lifting the fork that had been set atop the plate. General Hux sat beside you, taking a bite of his food as you did the same with yours. “Mm…it’s really good.” He made a noise, as though he were offended you would believe he could possibly make anything _other_ than good food. You fought off a smile at the noise. “I just mean… I’ve mostly been eating cafeteria food lately. It’s healthy, but… Not exactly the tastiest thing in the galaxy. This is nice.”

“I’m pleased to know you are enjoying it.” He finished eating before you did, and immediately his hands were on you again. You squirmed a little, altering the way you were holding your plate so that you would not drop it as he nibbled along ear then suckled your neck. You set your plate on the table before you had finished eating so that you could turn and kiss him. General Hux wrapped an arm around you and tugged you onto his lap. “It’s going to be a busy week, (L/n).”

“So you’re fucking me as much as possible before that happens?” you asked, your lips hovering near his.

“Precisely.”

“Okay…then I’m tapping back in.” He smirked before pinning you against the couch.


	18. Clearing the Mind

Clearing the Mind

General Hux saying that the week was going to be ‘busy’ was an understatement. You found yourself thoroughly exhausted after only two days. This was in part due to the fact that you could only catnap here and there. No full night’s rest for you nor the General. A number of the other officers did not seem to be getting sufficient rest either. On day four Kylo Ren returned to Starkiller. He refused to allow you time off from his training sessions. Your teacher sat across from you, watching. You were supposed to be meditating, however you kept nodding off. What awoke you each time it was because Kylo lightly force-choked you. And it _was_ lightly. He never cut off your air supply completely.

You rubbed your sore neck, rearranged yourself, and took a deep breath whilst trying to relax—but not relax _too_ much. “Focus,” Ren’s metallic voice reminded you. You nodded and attempted to do just that. Focus. Yet clear your mind at the same time. Focus on having a clear mind. Easier said than done when earlier in the week you were having to focus on everything. That was your job now. “You’re not very good at this.”

“Thank you, sir,” you said, not rudely. That he had even bothered to comment at all indicated he was taking a vested interest in things. Complete passiveness from him—if he had been silent—that would have meant he was focusing on other things. “What should I focus on?”

“Vastness.”

You furrowed your brow, thought about his words for a moment, and then closed your eyes. You pictured yourself aboard the _Finalizer_. Alone. No one working around you. In empty space. The vessel slowly disappeared from your mind, and there you were among the stars. Alone—and then Kylo Ren was there. Staring at you from behind his mask, though saying nothing. You knew why your mind had him there; he was your guide. Even before he had accepted his role as your teacher, that first time you had met him, you had asked him for advice on how to break one of Hux’s holds. He had freely given it.

In many ways, you did fear the man. He could kill you at any given moment. On the other hand, you trusted him. Kylo Ren had been put in a position to be your teacher, and he was doing exceedingly well. Your offensive and defensive techniques in hand-to-hand combat had greatly improved. General Hux also helped in that area where he could. He and Captain Phasma were in charge of helping you improve your aim. Yet it was definitely Kylo Ren who found out how to get you to let loose. Which was funny, given that your relationship with the general—well, one would have believed that _he_ would be the one to do such a thing.

After letting loose, however, Kylo Ren ensured that you knew how to get yourself under control. Quickly. There were times when you could not clear your thoughts of the emotions going through you, of the adrenaline pumping through your veins. That was what the two of you were working on.

For the following three days, this was your routine. You spent more time with Kylo Ren than with General Hux. It was during your breaks from training that you sorted through the reports, which seemed to be never ending. While you read the reports, Kylo Ren would meditate or train on his own. Sometimes you would look up from your work to watch him cutting through some of the training droids. His fighting style was different than Hux’s. Both were effective, and you knew that you would be able to learn much from each of them. Part of you wondered what it would be like to watch the two of them fight—but you did not want either of them hurt, because undoubtedly neither would yield to the other. Blood would be shed, and you decided that it would be best to never entertain such thoughts for long.

Though you were keeping track of time in certain respects, it had slipped your mind what day had been drawing so near. You were officially an officer of the First Order, and your probation period was nearing its end. You were seated on General Hux’s bed, Millicent curled up in your lap. The previous day Kylo Ren had injured you—accidentally—when he had blocked one of your attacks. You had lost your footing as he had made to catch your blow. A cracked rib was leaving you in bed. Which meant that you were solely focused on sorting through reports.

Millicent purred happily, and you scratched the top of her head. Hux came into his room with a tray of food. He was scowling. The man was refusing to be intimate with you in any way—not even _kissing_ you—in order to prevent further damage from being done. You rolled your eyes. “Just sit with me. On the foot of the bed?”

The redhead appeared hesitant yet obliged. He was careful as he sat, careful to not jostle you. You were doing what you could to not take any pain medication with the knowledge that it would cause you to fall asleep. You wanted to get at least some work done. “I hear Ren visited you here earlier.”

“Meditation…it helps, actually. Not focusing on the pain.” He nodded. You knew he was not pleased with the fact that Kylo had been in his quarters, yet you had indeed enjoyed the Knight’s company when the General had been away working. “I’m under the impression he wanted to make sure he didn’t permanently damage his student. He’s a good teacher. Plenty of people wind up with cracked ribs in other training exercises. It was bound to happen eventually.”

“Officer…”

“Yes, General?”

“Stop trying to comfort me about your cracked rib.” You rolled your eyes and took a bite of the food he had brought you. “In an hour, you will take your medication and get some rest.”

“Yes, S—uhm…Hux?” He nodded, indicating that you could freely use his name without any titles. “I just don’t want you to worry. I’ll be very good. Stay in bed—your bed. Do work. Keep Millicent company.” The cat in your lap stretched out and yawned at these words. She stood, walked around in a circle, and cuddled against you once more. “Progress hasn’t been slowed, so…”

“Very well.” General Hux slid off his boots, slowly easing himself further onto the bed. You smiled, happy that he was at last acting like you were not about to shatter by every little move he made. You did appreciate his caution, to be sure. However, you knew your limits. He and Kylo Ren had both beaten this teaching into you—literally and figuratively. Hux laid on his back, his head on the pillow. “When you are cleared, you will be shadowing me for some time. Kylo has agreed to postpone further training. You don’t seem to be a detriment in the least.”

“That’s nice to hear,” you said, finishing up the final report that was in your inbox. You set aside your datapad before bringing the tray of food closer so that you could eat it with more ease. “I could get used to this though. You cook me breakfast… Commander Ren made me lunch. Now I get dinner from you… Some nice pampering.” He snorted. “There weren’t a lot of reports that needed to be sent your way.”

“That’s a relief.” He sounded tired. Work on Starkiller was mostly finished, save for a few last minute adjustments. The shields were all fully functional with no glitches anymore; that was what everyone had been busy with the previous two weeks. Minor bugs, however all had at long last been sorted on that front. “Supreme Leader will be pleased with our progress.”

Having finished both your work and the meal, you took your pain medicine and relaxed on the bed beside Hux. The redhead had Millicent lying on his chest, the ginger kitty seeming rather pleased that her owner was paying her so much attention. “You smell nice.” You felt him turning his head to look at you.

“You should be silent.”

“You can make me make it up to you later,” you said, reaching and patting Millicent on the head. “I was just wondering…were you working out, or did you have to run around a bit today?”

“The latter,” he responded. You released a single hum. Your eyes drifted over to the man, who had since allowed his eyelids to descend. He absentmindedly stroked Millicent, and you could sense that Hux was drifting off. Knowing that he did not have much time to rest, you said nothing. The medicine soon kicked in, and you fell asleep beside him.

.

.

It was your first time attempting to clear your mind while you were on medication. The pain medicine was having you feel loopy, as though everything were surreal. Kylo Ren insisted that this was the perfect time for you to practice. A way to see how you could work through toxins that could potentially enter your body. The hypothetical scenarios he had outlined had you wondering just how dangerous your job truly was. Though he also insisted that these were not _highly likely_ to occur, your teacher informed you that it would be prudent to study all the same. You could not deny this fact; it was best to prepare for the worst.

This time the two of you were not in Hux’s quarters, but instead in one of the training areas. A few of the officers were working on the other side of the room. They greatly avoided the Knight, which was fine with you as it prevented anyone from bumping into you. The pain was worse today than it had been the other days. Possibly because you had momentarily forgotten your injury and twisted wrong. At least you had the pain relievers to help—wait, you were supposed to be clearing your mind.

You took a deep breath, which hurt, and held it in for a number of seconds—this also hurt. Then you released it slowly and willed away the string of thoughts that kept wanting to form.

It was another fifteen minutes before at last you were able to clear your mind as you were supposed to. Kylo Ren commented on your need for improvement. You took his criticism to heart, knowing it would be best to take any advice you could get. Only when the Force user dismissed you did you rise and head in the direction you knew General Hux to be. You enjoyed the fact that you would be shadowing him; spending time with him in any capacity was warmly welcomed by you.

“When you are cleared, we will be leaving Starkiller and boarding the _Finalizer_ ,” General Hux informed you after finishing his conversation with another officer. You blinked once then nodded, verbally acknowledging him as well. “Ren will be joining us for a time.” When the frown tugged at his lips, you knew it had a lot to do with the random outbursts by the Knight that resulted in his ship being damaged. Those icy blue orbs slid to you, and you jerked your eyes away. You recognized the silent demand for you to _not_ give into temptation again and destroy any portion of the ship along with the Commander. “Your probation is nearly over, (L/n).”

“Yes, sir.”

“I must caution you to tread carefully. A single mistake could ruin everything.”

Those around you may have viewed his words as a threat, others a promise, and more a warning. You knew it to be all those things. “I will be careful, General.”

That night, you were simply thankful that he wasn’t being _overly_ careful still. You had managed to convince him to let you touch him at least. He was seated on his chair and completely naked. Your hand was trailing up and down his cock. You carefully leaned forward so that you did not irritate your injury, and you wrapped your lips around the head of his dick. A hiss escaped him, that sharp breath indicating that he had been wanting this for some time. You smiled sloppily around him as you swirled your tongue around his slit. Your hand shifted downwards so that you were able to cup his sac. Hux’s eyes were half-closed, his lips parted as he watched you.

Precum dribbled onto your tongue already. You greedily lapped it up then began to bob your head. Your hand pleasured whatever portion of him was not in your mouth. A strangled sound escaped him, and you paused. You pulled back and stared at him with wide eyes and an open mouth. The man’s cheeks heated up. He grit his teeth and hissed through them. “Silence, (L/n).”

He had mewled. He had sounded _so_ much like a cat that it took _everything_ in you to resist asking him to howl for you. Better yet, you hoped he would repeat the sound. This, naturally, had you repeating your previous actions. Another noise escaped him, however it was different than the mewl. No less enjoyable though. You drank in his moans, the deep groans and sighs, and all the other noises that left him as you swallowed his seed.

“You’re just not usually so vocal… I liked it,” you commented after rising. General Hux shook his head, a smirk beginning to form. “Hmm…tomorrow I am seeing the doctor. Hopefully I’ll be cleared.”

“I highly doubt it.” You did as well, but you wanted to remain at least slightly optimistic. “We’re currently ahead of schedule. A few extra days for you to heal won’t put anyone out. I would prefer to have you along—lately I have been able to focus on more important things since I no longer have to deal with reports that should not have been sent my way to begin with.”

You took this as a compliment that you were doing your job well. Also as a roundabout way of saying that he cared about your health. “Well… I doubt I’ll be cleared for action any time soon.”

“Yes, that _is_ highly unlikely. All the same, I do not expect you to be on the battlefield, (L/n). Your primary duties, as my assistant, rest with more…secretarial work, I suppose one would say.”

“It’s fascinating… I enjoy it.”

“Yes…and you readily comprehend that there are often hidden meanings. You tend to see the underlying message… I believe I have chosen correctly—to have you as my assistant. Do _not_ ruin this, (L/n).”

“You keep saying that, sir, and I’m starting to worry.”

“It has been noticed that our…relations are more than simply professional.”

“People are thinking I have this position because of that?”

“That is correct. And I want them to be shown that their assumptions are false.” You nodded and uttered out a _Yes, sir. Of course, General._ Hux grabbed his pants as he stood. He pulled them on then ran a hand through his hair. “Take your medicine and get some rest. I’m going to be showing off your analytical skills tomorrow.”

In other words, he was going to embarrass and shame a number of the officers that were trying to say the General was allowing his libido to get in the way of his work ethics. Boy were they in for a rude awakening, especially since you were looking forward to proving them wrong.


	19. When Master's Away, Cats Will Play

When Master’s Away, Cats Will Play

You were lying on your back with your legs hooked over either of General Hux’s shoulders. Those blue eyes wandered along your face, which was scrunched in pain. Though the physician had cleared you for more work, you had still been told to limit the physical activities you partook in. To top it off, you had been given a list of stretches you were to perform. Having properly shamed some of your coworkers with your analytical skills that morning—many had blushed then scowled when they believed you were not looking, you having corrected them on details they had misinterpreted from the data they had received—you were now being rewarded in the form of your superior officer aiding you in those aforementioned stretches.

“Perhaps, Officer (L/n),” the redhead began, his gaze flicking up to meet your own, “you should remove your shirt.” You hesitated, dropping your eyes from his face in favor of considering the mentioned article of clothing. You relaxed against the bed, undid the buttons, and pulled the shirt off. You left on your bra, knowing full well that he was having you remove your shirt in order to see if you were straining your body in a way that would set you back. “Turn to the side—slowly.”

Having originally started to turn over quickly, you paused and then obeyed his orders. Suggestion, you reminded yourself. He was not acting in the capacity of your superior; you would not have removed your shirt if that were the case. There was a minute amount of pain, however when you began turning onto your other side, you cringed and hissed in pain. Above you, General Hux set a hand lightly over your injured rib. He shifted his limb downwards, and you felt the pain lessen with his actions.

“The muscle is tight. Don’t overdo it,” he said. You moved onto your back once more, staring up at him. “I want you in charge of looking over the reports regarding the defense systems. See where mistakes can be made… I was not pleased with how many times you had to correct your peers. Their training could have been better.”

“Yes, sir,” you said. You had not removed your legs from his shoulders, and he did not seem to be objecting to this fact. On the contrary, his fingers were trailing up your thigh then back down again. Before beginning the stretches, you had removed your pants to prevent anything from inhibiting movement. The leather of his gloves against your bare flesh had your eyelids fluttering. General Hux hooked his thumb into your panties and tugged them off to the side while at the same time he leaned forward to swipe his tongue along your folds.

A groan escaped him the moment he tasted you, and your cheeks heated up as a result. Biting down on your bottom lip, you fought off a shudder as his lips closed around your inner lips in a brief kiss. He repeated the action three times before flicking his tongue out again and swirling it around your entrance. Hux thrust his tongue within you, and your toes curled as you released a loud moan. Your chest was starting to rise and fall more quickly, and there was a light throb of discomfort in your side given that you had just been stretching sore muscles. You did not allow this factor to put a damper on the experience. He drew his tongue back into his mouth. You heard a wet noise coming from him, and you blushed hotly at the realization that he was swishing your juices around before swallowing.

“Nnn…S-sir,” you said, feeling him enveloping you with his entire mouth. After only a moment of suckling, General Hux drew back. He worked your legs off his shoulders, your feet flat against the mattress as he set them there. The redhead shifted, his hands on his belt, which he removed. He then doubled this over and ran the edge of the leather up the entire length of your leg. This time you could not fight off the shudder. His face unreadable, the man set the belt between your legs and, with a flick of his wrist, brought it against your clitoris, although not too roughly. You gasped at the contact, your pleasure far outweighing any amount of pain you were feeling.

“You’re _dripping_ wet,” he said smugly, the expression on his face showing all the evidence needed to know he was proud to be the one making you as such. You sucked your lips into your mouth to keep from saying anything stupid. The General pinched his zipper and dragged it down. Your eyes were transfixed on his actions as he opened the front of his pants and dragged out his swollen member.

He wrapped a hand around his cock, immediately setting to work at a leisurely pace. You spread your legs further so that you could fully take in the sight. He jerked himself, his teeth bared as he stared down at your cunt, which was indeed dripping wet. You started to reach down for yourself, however paused when he barked out an order for you to keep still. You dropped your hand back to your side and huffed. Though you were content to watch him, the sight of him working his hard cock made was turning you on to the point that all you wanted to do was either touch yourself or shove yourself onto him. The hand left his dick, and then Hux was reaching through your legs, past your body, and thrusting three fingers into your mouth. You greedily sucked on those digits, laving them with your tongue.

General Hux ensured that his fingers were properly coated with your saliva before he removed them from your mouth and once more wrapped them around his cock. He pursed his lips and curled his tongue within his mouth, spitting on your clit. The glob of salvia hit against your clit in a way that had you jump at the sudden contact. Your breath hitched. He was working his cock faster, your spit aiding in his movements. Precum dripped, and you knit your brow while releasing a low whine of want.

“Fuck, sir,” you said breathlessly.

“Officer,” he growled out, and you clenched your teeth to keep from saying anything more. You breathed deeply through your nose, watching his hand moving faster and faster as he sought release. You felt his cum hitting you in spurts, his semen covering your cunt and mingling with your juices. Hux seized your inner thighs, spreading your legs even further as he leaned down and flattened his tongue against you. You released a mewling squeal. Your cheeks were hot; he dragged his tongue up you from your entrance to your clit, gathering both his cum and your juices into his mouth. He did not swallow, instead moving up your body so that his hands were resting on either side of your head. He hovered above you, swirling around his mouthful. You bit down on your bottom lip then, seeing the look in his eye, you tentatively parted your lips and opened your mouth for him.

General Hux once more pursed his lips, allowing a thin trail of saliva, mixed with cum, to form. It dripped into your mouth. You groaned, sliding your tongue out of your mouth so that you could catch the dribble that had started to fall towards your chin. A wet sound echoed in the room as he spit more, the trail thickening and slipping into your mouth. He lowered his mouth onto yours. Without swallowing, you thrust your tongue into his mouth and returned the mixture to him. He forcefully moved the cum and saliva mix back into your mouth then pinched your nose between two fingers. Desperate for air, you swallowed so that he would release your nostrils. The man above you chuckled darkly in victory.

“Be a good girl for your General, Officer (L/n),” he murmured against your lips. Your mouth had fallen open and you were panting, your lungs desperate for air. The tip of his tongue waggled along just underneath your lips then he flicked his organ upward, curling it as he drew it back into his mouth. His flaccid cock was pressed tightly against your cunt, and you found yourself shifting so that there was movement between your bodies. Your superior officer smirked down at you, rolling his hips. You felt your juices smearing along his length. “Meow for me.”

“Mm…ny-nyao,” you managed quietly.

“Now, keep being good,” he commanded as he moved off of you. Again was he on his knees between your legs. Those blue eyes of his were expectant. You swallowed once more, turning over until you were on your hands and knees. You pressed your torso against the bed, drew your legs further underneath yourself, and hiked up your ass. The angle caused only minor discomfort to your injured rib. This was, naturally, easy to ignore when you felt the first swipe of his tongue. You released another mew, bunching the blankets up underneath your fists. His tongue found your clit, and he prodded it while using both thumbs to spread your lips. He moved his organ into you, thrusting in and out rapidly. You wet around him.

General Hux noisily slurped up your juices again before moving up. You felt the wetness of his spit and your juices against your ass. Your eyes widened when he swirled his tongue around your rim. Your vaginal walls spasmed around nothing as he worked his tongue into your ass.

“I’ve received eight written apologies already, (L/n),” he said before teasing your hole again. You brought your hand closer to your face and bit down on your knuckles. “Many are ashamed for even _thinking_ I would allow something as trivial as lust to cloud my judgment, to give you this position.”

“ _This_ position, sir?” you asked teasingly, pressing back into him when that devilish tongue wiggled against you again. A deep chuckle escaped him, his hot breath hitting against you.

“Don’t get smart with me, (L/n),” he said simultaneous to the moment you heard the mattress shifting as the man behind you readjusted himself. He placed both hands on your ass, kneading the flesh as he lowered his face against your cunt. His teeth nipped at your lower lips, at your inner thighs, and your clit.

“F-f-fuck, sir… I need to cum so badly.” He responded by groaning, the vibrations shooting through you. You whimpered, tears gathering in your eyes. General Hux removed one hand from your ass, setting three fingers against your clit. He rocked it hard against you, his tongue thrusting in and out of you. You moaned, gasping then screaming out his name as you came. General Hux swallowed repeatedly, dragging your cum into his mouth until he was satisfied.

He trailed a hand up your spine, the man crawling up the bed so that his face was level with yours. You lowered your ass and slipped into a comfortable position. “I’m all stretched out, sir.” A smirk formed on his face, and your cheeks heated up. “Uhm…I mean…”

“I know, (Y/n),” he said. You relaxed at the sound of your name spilling from his lips. “When you are fully healed, I have a number of things to do to you.” He was starting to work his cock again, which was hardening at his touch. “In the meanwhile…”

You eased yourself up, slipped a leg over him, and straddled his waist. You breathed heavily, your eyes widening at your position above him. You knew he was still the one in control. At any moment he could flip you onto your back, and so you did nothing that could be construed as a display of dominance; General Hux would never give up power in any shape or form. Until he demanded you to do so, you didn’t lower yourself onto his cock. When he did give the order, however, you relished in the feel of him inside of you.

“Ride me, (L/n),” he growled out, his teeth clenched. His hands were on your thighs, the leather digging into you at his tight grip. You obeyed him immediately, grateful that he was allowing you to set the pace so that you found pleasure and not pain from the experience. “Does that feel good—having your General inside of you?”

“Fuck, sir, your cock is so thick.” He hadn’t allowed for sex since your injury; not penetrative at least. You were in a state of ecstasy, his cock stretching and filling you so perfectly. “You’re amazing. Mm…damn.” You had one hand on his abdomen while the other was atop one of his. You squeezed the leather material of his glove, picking up the pace.

“Don’t be shy, (L/n)…scream my name as loud as you can. Don’t hold back now,” he purred out. You shuddered, shyly beginning to moan his name and title louder. General Hux bucked up hard into you, and his name left your lips at a volume that ensured a number of his neighbors would hear. The man grinned wickedly, his teeth visible. “That’s right, Officer…let everyone know how good your General feels inside of you.”

Now that it was known what he was doing with you, you found that he was anything but shy. Your eyes bulged as the man raised his torso, pressing his chest against yours. His mouth was near yours, his breath hitting your face.

“Howl out my name,” he said in such an authoritative tone that you did not even dream of disobeying. You howled his name, sounding like both a cat in heat and woman who was being pleasured beyond all imagination. Which was true, given that he had started to tease your clit while running his tongue along your collarbone.

Sure enough, the next day, all the officers that shared the building you were in with Hux turned red when you walked past them, when they caught sight of you. You felt your own cheeks heat up a few times. In no way were you ashamed of what you had done, however that they _knew_ and undoubtedly thought about it—you were not sure how you felt about that. You made your way to the training area, where Kylo Ren stood.

“Funny,” he said when you approached. His vocoder caused that single word to sound flat. The fact that he had uttered it out, on the other hand, meant that he _was_ amused by the way the officers were reacting. Now they left the training room not only because they feared him, but also because they were too embarrassed to look your way. Ren looked around the recently emptied room. “I should be thankful that I am in a different building.”

“Well… Uhm, _I’m_ thankful, sir.” You straightened your uniform.

“I hear it all second-hand regardless,” he said plainly. You shifted awkwardly from one leg to the other. You had momentarily forgotten that he randomly checked through the minds of those employed by the First Order. “Judging by how loud you were, I assume you have been cleared for more intense training sessions.”

“Er… To a point, sir.”

“We will test your limits…meow when you reach them.”

You scowled at him, hating the way he was teasing you. You didn’t take it personally, however, he tended to be a quick-witted, sarcastic ass with pretty much everyone.

“No, Officer (L/n)… It would be wise of you to heed my words.” You hesitated, realizing that he had been reading your thoughts. That helmeted head cocked to the side. “Meow when you reach your limit.” Without another word, he moved in for an attack. You yelped, dropping low and rolling out of the way. You flinched in pain. Setting a hand against your throbbing side, you returned to your feet and watched the man. Kylo Ren had started to circle you, much like a large predator stalking its prey. Sort of like a cat, you noted. Both you and Ren paused.

 _Huh…_ you thought. _General Hux has three cats…_

“I’m not a cat,” that modulated voice said.

Yet it made perfect sense. Playful. Destructive. Agile. Things had to be on his own terms, even something as simple as contact… A cat. Kylo Ren moved in for another attack. Squeezing your eyes closed, you released a pathetic _meow_. A strange sound escaped the man, who was mere inches away.

“Sorry, sir, sorry… Don’t hit me.”

Before the man received a chance to respond, General Hux entered. You adjusted yourself into a more proper stance as your superior officer walked over to you and Ren. His gaze flicked between the pair of you. “Keep your claws in, Ren. I don’t need my assistant injured any further.” Kylo seemed to bristle at the first statement. That visor switched back to you, and you felt his eyes boring into you. You ducked your head. Having seen this interaction, General Hux sighed. “Do I need to mediate?”

“No.” You were not sure whether to relax or fear for your safety when Ren said that single word. “Your _kitten_ simply needs to learn her place.”

“She knows her place, Ren.” Despite his words, there was a brief look of confusion on the man’s face. The redhead then sighed. “You need not do anything to assert your dominance over her, Ren. I don’t need a _pissing_ contest going on. She is well aware that you are her superior. Isn’t that correct, Officer (L/n)?”

“Yes, General.” Kylo Ren looked straight at you, and you shrunk under his gaze. “ _M-meow_.” General Hux placed his forehead into a hand while Ren straightened his posture, no longer looking as though he were about to spring on you.


	20. Not Your Concern

Not Your Concern

You had at last been cleared to ride about the Command Shuttle in order to be transferred to the _Finalizer_ along with General Hux, Commander Ren, and Captain Phasma. The triumvirate was quiet during the ride, and you were as well. The redhead was sitting across from you and scrolling through reports on his datapad. Captain Phasma was beside him, sitting there quietly. From his position at your side, Kylo Ren was also quiet. You stared at his chest, at the way it slowly rose and fell, and wondered if he was taking a nap. Such thoughts distracted you from the animosity you felt towards the man you would normally be seated beside.

The previous day you had overheard a lieutenant speaking to the general regarding potential candidates for assigned copulation. At first you believed the lieutenant was looking to sire an heir, however the longer they spoke, you soon realized that it was the general considering having a child. The thought made you feel sick to your stomach. Last night you had broached the subject with him. General Hux had considered you for several seconds before stating that it was not your concern. You had not backed down; you told him it _was_ your concern if he was involved with someone else, even if it was solely to produce an heir.

He kept tight-lipped, simply standing there without saying another word. You pressed on, asking if he planned to have a fertilized egg implanted in a surrogate, or if he indeed was going to choose a less scientific means of procreation. With a frown, General Hux had reiterated that it was none of your business then retired to his bed for the night.

The two of you had not spoken since. You were fuming with anger, and judging by the way he was acting, your superior was still with the stance that this was not your business. Granted your relationship with the man wasn’t the most conventional, you believed it _was_ your business. Not to mention it _hurt_ that you had found out the way you had. He obviously had had no intention of telling you, unless it came up in conversation.

Crossing your arms over your chest, you listened to the sounds in the Command Shuttle. The pilot and co-pilot were speaking to one another off and on to pass the time. All professional chatter. Phasma was still quiet, and Kylo Ren had slumped a little to the side in proof that he had definitely fallen asleep. Lowering your gaze to your lap, you reached to the side and withdrew your datapad. You immediately began to sort through some of the reports that had been sent your way.

One report in particular caught your eye. It had undoubtedly been sent to you by mistake. This should have been sent directly to General Hux given its nature. You felt a new wave of nausea roll through you, lightheadedness threatening your state of consciousness. The report had three categories. Females open for assigned copulation along with links to their personnel files; females willing to donate eggs along with links to their personnel files; and females willing to play role as surrogate for such eggs along with links to their personnel files.

Suddenly you were thankful that you _had_ overheard the conversation. Because this would have been an even shittier way of finding out. You could feel your cheeks heating up, tears threatening to form in your eyes. There was nowhere to escape to, and it was still a good hour before the estimated arrival aboard the _Finalizer_. Swallowing thickly against the bile that had risen in your throat, you quickly forwarded the report to General Hux without reading anything more.

You moved onto the next report immediately, yet found yourself reading each sentence three or more times without comprehending what was said in those lines. Huffing, you closed out of the program and put away your datapad. You closed your eyes and tried to force yourself to go to sleep. That didn’t work. Clearing your mind was not working either. You felt betrayed by the man.

You had never been under the impression that he wanted kids at that moment in time. In some ways, sure, it made sense. He was in a position that guaranteed he would get pick of the best breeding stock. Any child of his was set in terms of a military career. Childcare would be provided by one of the many academies, not to mention private instructors. There were nanny droids that could be used, if not a more fleshy being. As the General’s Assistant, would you have any duties regarding the man’s heir?

Millicent, from her position in her carrier underneath the general’s seat, released a tentative mew. You opened your eyes and looked down at her. The ginger cat shifted a little, however remained curled up.

The silence amongst the four of you remained through arrival aboard the _Finalizer_. Once there, Kylo Ren stirred, rose, and exited the ship. Captain Phasma, likewise, took her leave. An officer boarded the shuttle in order to lift Millicent’s carrier and take her to the man’s quarters. The redhead glanced your way as you began to hoist the bag that held your belongings over your shoulder. You, feeling his gaze, met his stare. Though you tried to hide the hurt, you know you failed to do so completely. General Hux turned away from you and walked off the ship.

“Officer (L/n),” a petty officer said whilst approaching you. You turned to him, allowing the young man to lead you to the quarters you were to occupy while aboard the vessel. Unsurprisingly, they were near the general’s. You accepted the cylinders that were to be affixed to your uniform from the man as well. These would grant you access to various portions of the Star Destroyer.

You remained in your quarters even after the petty officer left. Setting down your bag, you shifted over to the bed and slipped into a sitting position upon it. Everyone knew the general was fucking you, you reminded yourself. Yet he was looking to produce an heir. It would be an _honor_ to mother his child. Not that you wanted to become impregnated, and yet… To think he hadn’t even asked you. Had possibly not even considered it at all.

Balling your hands into fists, you at last allowed the tears to form in your eyes. They began to spill down your cheeks, wetting your face and, as they fell, your uniform. The first time you had been aboard the _Finalizer_ , you had been offended when more than one of the officers had commented on their belief that you were of good breeding stock. You recalled that you had complained of their words to the general, who had practically verbally reprimanded you for being so insulted. It had been a compliment, he had said.

Well, fuck him!

_“I hadn’t even considered you as a woman until you kissed me. Just another soldier…”_

Did he even consider you as a woman, you wondered. He said he did, and yet… But he was cold to everyone. Always so guarded, yet you had believed, after he had danced with you that time, that maybe things were different.

_“Sometimes it slips my mind that you might do anything so…feminine.”_

Fuck him, fuck him, fuck him!

It was one thing to not allow sentiment to interfere with his training of you. To not allow it to jeopardize his role as General. But, if you were truly of good breeding stock, why hadn’t he considered _you_? If you meant _anything_ to him, why hadn’t he brought up the subject with you? Why did he insist that it was of no concern to you? Even if you had rejected him—did you even want a child?—you believed you should have at least had that chance. Instead it was supposed to be of no concern to you whether or not he engaged in sexual behavior with another. Whether or not he impregnated a woman.

“Fuck!” Your throat was raw from holding back the sobs, and at last you threw yourself onto your stomach so that you could scream into your pillow. A sob wracked your entire frame. You drew your knees up under yourself, curling into a ball as you cried and screamed into the plush, swearing and cursing the man.

_“You are a good kitty, (L/n), however you are a better solider.”_

Never a _woman_! His cat. His assistant. His soldier. Not girlfriend. Not girl. Not woman. Not even something so crass as _lover_. A fucking _kitty_ , a damned _cat_ , or else a replaceable _soldier_.

 _“You want him to love you.”_ Kylo Ren’s voice during your interrogation flowing through your mind. _Why would he want you for anything other than sex?_

A knock on the door roused you from your wallowing misery. You briskly wiped at your eyes, knowing that you would be unable to erase all traces that you had been crying. Your eyes were no doubt red and puffy. Despite this, you walked to the door and opened it. You felt a cold draft run through your body upon seeing the redhead standing there.

“Officer (L/n),” he said smoothly. You stepped back to permit him entrance. General Hux strode inside, saying nothing until the door had been once more closed. Then he turned to you. “A crewmember will be assigned to you in order that you become more familiar with the ship. This should aid in your task of sorting through the reports sent your way.”

“Yes, sir,” you said quietly. You were waiting. Waiting for him to say something, because he _knew_ you had seen the report. Yet he said nothing, instead moving to exit your quarters. “Sir?” General Hux paused without turning around. “I…” You swallowed thickly. “It’s an…awkward”—miserable, your mind shot—“position to be in… If you… If you are intending to…to sire an heir, sir, then I… I would request that…” You took a shuddering breath, fighting off the bubble of a sob that was again rising. “I don’t want to…be involved…like we are… if you are siring an heir and don’t think it’s any of my business… Then I don’t want to be involved at all.”

“Aside from being my assistant on a professional level?” he asked, his voice flat, tone perfectly even.

You wanted to throw up, but swallowed that down. “Correct, sir.”

“I see.” And with that, General Hux exited your quarters.

It absolutely _stung_. As though you had been smacked across the face, as though someone had driven a blade into your gut. You rushed into the refresher and vomited the food you had eaten for breakfast that morning. You had all but given him the answer! All he had had to say was that it was your business. No; a simple, _I see_ from him was all you had gotten.

.

.

The crew appeared privy to the fact that things were not smoothly sailing between General Hux and you. They would glance your way whenever the two of you were in the same room. You acted in the capacity of his assistant, and he spoke to you only on a needed basis. You felt a mixture of emotions whenever you were physically near the man. Sometimes you felt as though you were about to break down in tears. Other times you felt anger, and you had to work at keeping your tone level and respectful when speaking to the man. Still, there were times when you were numb. That occurred on particularly busy days, and you appreciated such distractions as extra work more than anything.

It did not hit you, however, that you were indeed no longer in a relationship with the General outside the scope of professional until you observed a female, whose name you recognized from the report that had accidentally been sent your way, walking into a room with General Hux. The two were clearly engaged in conversation, and the door closed behind them. You had immediately been forced to dismiss yourself from the shadow who was teaching you the run of the ship before you threw up on the floor. You managed to make it into the refresher before losing your lunch and your bearings.

Seeing that had solidified things for you. The _I see_ , you had hoped, was him considering things. Not a definite no, not a definitive end to what had been between the two of you. This, however, was the metaphorical nail in the coffin.

 _It’s none of my business. It’s none of my damn business!_ you screamed in your mind whilst rising. You rinsed out your mouth before returning to the crewmember, who resumed running through some schematics of the Star Destroyer with you.

What was perhaps just as painful as being struck with the realization that things had ended were the words of the crewmembers. The officers whispered or else loudly chatted with one another regarding you. Some theorized that things had ended because, quite clearly as the position you were in had been secured, you no longer had any need to indulge in the general sexually. One or two officers of higher rank did point out that your test scores could not be faked, however they held the position that a member of such low rank as yourself did not _deserve_ to be the General’s assistant. Clearly, they went on to say, it was indeed your indulgence of his carnal desires that had led him to place you in such a position.

And then there was the incident where you overheard General Hux once more discussing matters with another officer. “I need only the list of candidates with a higher rate of male offspring. Terminating the pregnancy in the event of an unwanted gender is not out of the question, however it extends the deadline.”

“I understand, sir,” the officer said, making a note on his datapad as the two walked past you in the corridor. You shuddered at the even tones that had been used. Never had you believed siring a child could be such a cold… _business_. You could not picture General Hux comforting the woman who would be bearing his son. Not even when she was in labor. One of the physicians would attend to her needs. And would he even be present for the birth?

You were not left alone with these thoughts for long. A petty officer approached you, the young woman needing your assistance. You continued to function in the capacity of the General’s assistant, and people treated you as such despite the poor view they held of you. Being ever professional, you did not comment on their harsh words even when you were present to hear them.

Nine days. It had been nine days since you had boarded the _Finalizer_. You had not seen Millicent a single time during those past days. It spoke volumes of how things were between the general and you. And then there was the fact that you saw him regarding other officers and a few senior technicians with mild curiosity. Assessing them. Seeing if they lived up to their profiles. It only emphasized the fact that you were a low-ranking officer. Fresh out of training compared to many on the ship.

Standing under the spray of the shower, you kept your eyes closed and face turned towards the water. With a heavy sigh, you removed the nozzle from the wall, lowered it on your body, and shuddered at the contact. You spread your legs further, your hands working to adjust the pattern in which the water was being released. Your breathing increased as pressure began to build up within you. It was nothing in comparison to the way General Hux had touched you. You gasped at the memory of him fucking you all those times. Pressing a hand against the wall to keep from collapsing, you brought the showerhead even closer. The water hit your clit, bringing you to a quick, weak orgasm.

With a snarl, you replaced the showerhead to its proper place. If anything, that had left you wanting more. You towel-dried then grabbed out a pair of gloves from your drawer. Then, closing your eyes, you knelt on your bed and ran the leather along your flesh. Spreading your legs, you thrust two fingers inside of yourself. Even this wasn’t the same. You withdrew your fingers, tore off the gloves, and tossed them away.

You pulled on clothes and made your way to one of the training areas. Without saying anything to the few individuals present, you went to a practice dummy. Your fist met its face over and over again. Its torso. Abdomen. You did not stop punching it, even when you felt the flesh on your knuckles giving way. Blood smeared against the dummy. You sneered at the sight, striking it at an angle so that the side of your hand hit it.

Even this wasn’t enough. Which is perhaps why you wrapped your arms around it and tugged. Why you lifted it above your head and chucked it across the room, narrowly missing a poor, unsuspecting bystander. The officer who had almost been injured stared at you with wide eyes. You glared at him, and he turned away. His rank was lower than yours. Which made you feel like shit, because you wanted to apologize to him but you were too angry to do so.

So instead you grabbed the next dummy and threw it across the training area. The few individuals who had been present started to leave or else stared at you in concern, surprise, and curiosity. You went down the line, tossing the dummies before breaking the final one. You literally tore its head off its body and chucked that away whilst screaming in frustration.

_“Your cat has claws?”_

The damn senator’s voice echoing in your head. Even he believed you were just a cat. Just a fuck toy for the general.

Whipping around, you landed a swift kick against the torso of the broken dummy. A second kick followed. A punch. Your side was throbbing at the exertion; you had not been cleared for such activities yet you were too angry to care. Too frustrated, emotionally and sexually.

“Fuck him! Fuck him! Fuck him!” you bit out under your breath.

But that was the problem. You _had_ fucked him.

Worse than that, you had started to love him.


	21. The Greatest Woe

The Greatest Woe

Eventually Kylo Ren entered the training area, threw you over his shoulder, and carted you towards medbay. He, apparently, was the only one allowed to destroy training dummies in such a fashion. You hadn’t any energy in you to protest, not to mention the rising pain in your side. The Force user did not verbally reprimand you. He did not say anything at all, in fact, and simply set you on one of the open beds. You curled up onto the side that was not injured. Tucking an arm underneath the pillow and thus your head, you stared at the far wall through narrowed eyes. The bed dipped to the right when Kylo sat on the very edge of it. You weren’t an idiot; you knew he was listening in on your thoughts, waiting for you to fully calm down before leaving. He had trained you, and thus he knew full well that you were capable of forcing your way out of medbay if you so wanted.

When the adrenaline stopped pumping through your veins and you relaxed, the darkly clad male rose and left. It was then, too, that a droid came and took your vitals. Shortly thereafter one of the physicians approached. She lifted your shirt past the rib that had been marked in your file as having been cracked. Holding a scanner over it, she released a sigh. “It seems you may have torn a muscle. The area was not fully healed.”

You bit back the sharp response you wanted to shoot out. Clenching your teeth, you clutched at the pillow with the hand that was underneath it and used your other hand to wipe along your forehead. You felt the woman rubbing some sort of ointment on your side. You winced at her touch, wrinkling your nose at the minty smell. When she lowered your shirt and walked away, you covered the top portion of your face with your hand.

You began to drift off, however roused immediately upon hearing the sharp _Officer (L/n)_. Without turning, you responded. “Sir.” Cordial but with no affection. Perfectly professional, just like he always was.

“Destroying First Order property is not a manner in which you should be conducting yourself. While it is true that your probation period is over and you have been officially granted the title as my assistant, such behavior will _not_ be tolerated. Do I make myself clear?”

“Yes, sir.” You wanted him to leave, yet at the same time you did not want him to go. There was a familiarity with him, even if he had hurt you.

“You will remain in medbay for a full day’s observation. Your datapad will be brought to you in the morning. Do you require anything else to complete your daily tasks?”

So _fucking_ professional.

“No, sir. That is all.” The nails of the hand clutching the pillow were beginning to bite into the skin of your palm despite the layers of material between them. It almost felt strange, not wearing any gloves. Your hands suddenly felt naked. You looked at your knuckles, where the skin had split. You doubted the physician had even noticed, what with you having obscured them from her vision.

General Hux, however, was not an oblivious man. You heard him turn, heard him begin walking away. As he did so, he said to the physician, “Take care of the injuries to her hands.”

Nevermind the injuries no one could see, the ones _he_ had inflicted.

Another five days elapsed; you had been discharged from medbay after the required day’s stay. Once more were you restricted when it came to training and exercises. This, perhaps more than anything, was a source of frustration. There was nothing you could do to take your mind off of things. There was no way for you to heal from the emotional injuries done to you by the man, not when you were trapped on a ship with him. Not when people would give that _look_ , the one that said they were better than you, that the _only_ reason you had your job was from spreading your legs for a superior officer.

You couldn’t even properly have a rebound even if you wanted to. No one night stand to get your mind off the man. What made it worse were the times you heard the _meows_. Teasing sent your way by the officers as they passed you. Your face always grew hot when you heard such things. You tried to lift your chin and shrug it all off. Tried and failed. Boy did you want to punch someone in the face. That someone had red hair. Blue eyes. A good physique. Was so fucking professional all the fucking time. Was standing next to you on the bridge.

You hadn’t even planned it. Hadn’t realized what you were doing until it had happened. You had hooked your foot to the side the moment he had started forward. The man tripped, however only stumbled forward before catching himself. He whipped around and your eyes were as wide as saucers. Everyone on the bridge had suddenly fallen deadly silent. Those who had been addressing one another turned away, facing their consoles. They did not want to get caught in the crossfire of the General’s rage.

“Retire to your quarters immediately,” he ground out with a sneer. There was a fire of anger in his eyes, and you dared not disobey. You hurriedly shuffled off the bridge and obeyed his order.

When you arrived, you started pacing your room. Who the fuck tripped the General like that? In front of his crew! Out in the open! Did you have a fucking death wish?

“He’s going to kill me,” you said, your heart pounding in your chest.

It had been childish. It had—well, yes, it had made you feel better for a moment before you realized he could ruin you in both the living and professional sense of the word.

The door to your room suddenly opened and you froze stiff. Then furrowed your brow in confusion as Kylo Ren entered, his shoulders shaking with laughter. “Funny,” he said, his laughter filtering through his vocoder. You shook your head, wanting to argue that it wasn’t funny. At least, the outcome wasn’t. Ren entered your quarters fully, allowing the door to close behind him. He circled you a single time then stood, staring at you. “It’s admirable—that someone of your standing would dare embarrass him in such a way.”

“Admirable, sir?” you said shakily, staring up at him in confusion. You were baffled. How was it admirable? It was reckless!

“Yes, admirable—but also foolish.” He looked ceiling ward, taking a single step to the side. “Given your previous relationship, he is in no position to officially punish you. That is left to one of your other superiors.” It dawned on you why Kylo Ren was present in your quarters. You shuddered, fearing what cruel punishment he had in mind. “You embarrassed him…and I will now do the same to you.”

“S-sir?”

“You’re my cat for a day,” he said, reaching into his robes and presenting you with cat ears and a tail, as well as gloves that looked something like paws. Your eyes bulged in your head. “Now.”

Stated calmly, but no doubt an order. You snatched up the ears, putting them on your head. Next the tail, which Ren assisted in hooking to one of your belt loops. The gloves you put on as the man withdrew another item from his robes. A collar with a leash. Your eyes were glued to the ground as the man affixed the collar around your throat. He turned, his hands crossed behind his back with the leash dangling from the right. He closed his fingers more tightly around the leash and tugged.

“You will crawl this time.”

Fuck, your superiors were assholes, and this was _not_ what you needed right at that moment! It wasn’t as though anyone in the First Order respected you, your position in the order. But this!

Knowing you could not argue, however, you sank to your knees. You then placed your hands on the ground in front of you. Ren took a step forward. The collar bit at the back of your neck, and you had to crawl forward an inch to make the discomfort fade. In this way the man led you out of your quarters. He walked slowly in part due to your injury, you knew.

“S-sir?” you said before either of you went too far, before there was anyone to see or hear you.

“Yes, pet?” You narrowed your eyes and huffed at the term.

“This isn’t…this isn’t sexual for you, is it?” The way he whipped around and looked at you; even with his helmet, you could practically see the indignation and confusion rolling off him. “Just making sure. That would be…awkward.”

A huff of a sigh through his mouthpiece, and the man turned away, once more walking with his arms behind his back. You crawled along after him, unsure how to feel. You hated that you were being humiliated. Yet Ren did not have a sexual interest in you. He was your teacher in certain respects. He had, apparently, taken a strange liking to you. Given that he shied away from sentiment just as much as Hux, you supposed this was the best you could get. Although ‘friend’ would have been preferable to ‘pet’.

He paused, reached back, and patted your head. It occurred to you that maybe he had always wanted a pet. And Hux had a cat…he had Millicent. You did what you could to ignore the looks you were getting. People quickly looked away upon remembering it was Kylo Ren who held your leash. It takes a while, however the man leads you back to the bridge. Eyes were on you then back on consoles. You kept your face pointed towards the ground after realizing that Genearl Hux hadn’t looked away.

His look of ‘What the actual fuck, Ren?’ had your stomach in knots. You could only imagine how twisted that expression became when Kylo Ren reached back and stroked your head, petting you like you were a real cat.

“I’m considering keeping her, General.”

 _What the actual fuck, Ren!_ your mind shot.

“Be that as it may, Ren,” General Hux started. His voice was mostly even, yet you could hear the quiver of irritation bleeding through. “She is _my_ assistant. Your punishment should not interfere with her duties.” Throughout this all, Kylo did not stop petting you. He even stroked the fake cat ears that were on your head.

“It won’t,” Kylo Ren said. Then, as if he had only brought you to the bridge to spite the general, the Force user turned on his heel and began his retreat. You were forced to crawl after him, slowly. Which meant your ass was where General Hux could stare at it the entire time. And boy did you feel those eyes on you, among other gazes.

_“I’ve been wanting to fuck this ass for a while now, (L/n).”_

You paused, blinked, and thought:

_Well, mother fucker, you don’t get to fuck it anymore!_

And with a swish of your fake tail by means of your foot flicking it, you swayed your hips more like a haughty cat. Because you could be catty, damn it! And not just for his pleasure, but for revenge as well! Kylo Ren reached back and patted your head again.

“Refrain from _petting_ my officer, Ren!”

The volume at which General Hux yelled caused many a people to jump. You were one such person. Kylo Ren wasn’t. On the contrary, he turned, scooped you up, and patted your head again while you remained curled in his arms. You blinked, rather confused and unsure what the hell was even going on. Yes, it was true that General Hux and Kylo Ren had a rivalry that had no boundaries. 

“It’s not your concern.” That single phrase, spoken so simply in that almost robotic-like voice caused your chest to swell with a mixture of emotions. Hurt. Relief. Respect for the man who obviously had more sense than the being who had said those words to you.

.

.

It was after Kylo Ren left and you had been permitted to return to your quarters that you again faced General Hux. You had not expected him to be waiting in the middle of your room for you. His face was a mask of passiveness. His arms crossed behind his back. Posture perfectly straight. You awkwardly removed the collar then tail, ears, and gloves while greeting him in the most professional tone you could muster.

“It seems you managed to gain Ren’s respect.” He said it as though it was a bad thing. The sneer on his face, his upper lip curled in disgust.

“I respect him as well,” you said in return without malice.

“The other officers, meanwhile…” He allowed his voice to trail off because he needn’t say anything further. You clenched your hands into fists at your side. “Disrespecting a superior officer as you did…you’re _lucky_ to have had such a light punishment. As it is, Captain Phasma has agreed: your position will be filled by another.”

You felt goosebumps pimpling your flesh. General Hux took a step closer to you, his face practically in yours.

“You do _not_ get off lightly disrespecting _me_.” You lifted your chin so that you could stare down your nose at him in the same manner he was you. “You should have known your place.”

“Beneath you?” you asked with a sneer. General Hux’s lips curled back, revealing his teeth. “I’m _not_ beneath you, _sir_ ,” you shot.

“It wouldn’t further your position to be so,” he countered. You physically reeled back as though he had slapped you. General Hux then shoved past you, his shoulder bumping into yours. You whipped around, your hand seizing the back of his shirt. You tugged harshly, a ripping sound emitting from where the seam split. General Hux turned, his hand rising too quickly for you to process, his fingers around your throat and his face once more in line with yours. “ _What_ do you think you are doing?”

“Fuck you!” you spat back, wrangling yourself out of his grasp. You placed a hand against your neck where he had gripped you. Taking a more guarded stance should he decide to strike further, you watched him with the utmost caution.

“You _did_ , (L/n).”

“I wish I wouldn’t have! Because, the thing is, I could have taken… For you to say that, you have _no_ respect for me! You’re so fucking petty!”

“I see. Clearly _you_ are the example of one who holds respect for others.”

“If I didn’t respect you at all, I would be claiming that you forced me to have sex with you!” He reeled back at the shot. For a moment he seemed taken aback. Tears started to fall down your cheeks, and you quickly wiped them away. “But instead, because I do respect you, I’m the one who has to… My fucking _career_! Everything I worked for… 

“I let you _humiliate_ me in so many ways! I let you do whatever the fuck you wanted to my body! And then you go off and… Whatever! You didn’t see that it was any of my business if you were going to sire an heir. We broke things off, and that may have hurt, but… I could have gotten over that. I could have gotten over being demoted eventually. But for you to say that… Fuck you! Fuck you! Get the fuck out of my quarters! I know you’re going to have me transferred off this ship, and I don’t want to see you again unless it’s unavoidable!”

“ _Everything_ we did you consented to!” he barked back, stepping closer to you rather than withdrawing and obliging to your demands. “For you to even bring up that you could claim _rape_ is loathsome! Threatening your superior—“

“It wasn’t a threat!”

“Everything you say and do is watched, (L/n)!” General Hux returned. “I will disregard your other remarks due to your current emotional state, however you _will_ be held responsible for your words. Furthermore, I will grant your request. We will have no further contact unless it is completely necessary. Turn in your clearance. You will be moved to the barracks for the remainder of your stay, and duties will be assigned to you as they are found until your departure.”

.

.

When you did leave, it was only Kylo Ren who arrived to see you off. He said nothing, and you found that you had no words to say either. With a nod of respect in his direction, you boarded the vessel and went to your next duty station.

That had been three weeks ago. You had been assigned to a different chain of command, though ultimately all things led back to the triumvirate. This fact you ignored as best you could while completing your duties. You were tasked with mostly deskwork, wherein you were assisting in the process of rewriting several courses for the different academies. Their flaws were nitpicked by your coworkers, none of which seemed to know of your affair with the General save for the few superiors who had access to your file. They, thankfully, said nothing of this to you.

Though your position did not hold as much prestige as that of being the General’s Assistant, you found that you had more respect from your comrades. The weather was calmer than Starkiller’s, which was another plus.

All in all, things were going great. But, of course, all things came to an end…including the simple life you had come to enjoy.

You had heard that the Command Shuttle had landed on the planet’s surface, yet had thought nothing of it. There was a chance that Captain Phasma had arrived to inspect the results of some of the training courses that had been changed. You did not concern yourself with it in the least. Your datapad in front of you, you swiped through the outline you had drawn up of a new training exercise that was scheduled to be implented the following month. You still had a few kinks to work out. After all, some of the methods were ones you had personally learned while under the tutelage of the triumvirate. There was not access to all the facilities nor climates unless one traveled throughout their training.

It was as you were finishing a slight alteration of your outline that the door opened. You did not look up from your work. One of your coworkers was probably needing to grab something from the office and would be—a rigid form was standing on the other side of your desk. You blinked, lowered your datapad, and felt lightheaded as you looked up at the red-haired man staring down at you. The expression on his face was neutral. Your eyes traveled up and down his frame. General Hux withdrew his arms from behind his back and rested them at his sides.

“Officer (L/n).”

Blinking stupidly, you awkwardly fumbled up into the proper position to greet him. “S-sir.” You did not know how to feel; you were completely shocked, to say the least. What dire need was there that he would be—

“I have a request that you fill out some paperwork.”

“Uhm… P-paperwork, sir?” By way of response, he lifted the sheets that had been in his hand; you hadn’t even noticed he was holding them, you were so thrown off by his visit. General Hux slid them towards you, and you started to read them. A frown crossed your face. “Permission to obtain my eggs, sir?”

Then it hit. He may have had little respect for you in the end, yet that did not mean he was stupid. He knew your test scores. He knew your skills. It had already been brought to the man’s attention—by you, no less—that many in the Order considered you to be an exemplary source for an offspring.

“No… No, sir.” He worked his jaw, not saying anything. You pressed the tips of your fingers against the sheets of paper and slid them back his way. “I have already been told that I am currently exempt from such things as egg donations and assigned copulation.”

“That is correct,” he said stiffly without leaving. You slowly sank back into your seat and stared at your datapad. You had work to do. You didn’t need…whatever the fuck this was. “You are, however, aware of my interest in producing an heir.”

“It doesn’t concern me, sir,” you said, lifting your gaze to him. “I hope for the best.”

“Many would consider it an honor.”

“Many haven’t been told repeatedly how _beneath you_ they were.”

“That was only ever meant on a sexual level.” You gave him a look of skepticism. Actions spoke louder than words, you wanted to say. And yet you bit back the retort for the sake of professionalism. “Are you refusing entirely to consider the request?”

“I have no interest nor obligation to mother a child at this…” You paused then lifted your gaze to him. His jaw was tense, and he narrowed his eyes. The man was well aware of your analytical skills. “You…you’re _obligated_ to sire an heir right now?”

Suddenly it made sense, him using the term _deadline_ when speaking to the officer that day. It did not excuse him in any way for how he had treated you, yet you found yourself thrown off guard.

“Well…uh…I have a course to rewrite.” You picked up your datapad and started sorting through your outline.

In your peripheral you could see him curling his hands into fists. “You needn’t do anything other than donate your eggs.”

“Uhm…you _are_ aware of the invasive nature of that, correct, General?” Those blue eyes, always so icy, averted from your face. You sighed, running a hand across your forehead. “No disrespect, sir, but you should have asked me first.” His gaze shot back to you then once more darted away. “I would have… And I’m glad I didn’t.”

“I see.” He picked up the stack of papers, straightened them out, and returned to his full height. He nodded in acknowledgment. “Good day, Officer (L/n).”

“Good…day…General.” You watched him exit your office, a strange tingling at the back of your neck. It was only when you were completely alone that you sighed and stared blankly at the wood of your desk. “I still love you, you asshole.”


End file.
